


TDC: Missing Scenes and What If Scenarios

by Arrow4131, Leilani972



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Missing Scenes, Not for Catlyn Tully fans, Not for Edmure Tully fans, Not for Jon Arryn fans, R Plus L Equals J, Tyrion Lannister is a Targaryen, What if scenarios, jon snow has a dragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:22:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrow4131/pseuds/Arrow4131, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leilani972/pseuds/Leilani972
Summary: This work is inspired by the The Dragon Cub by Alperez. Each chapter is missing scene from key moments in the original story and a chance for us to answer a few what if questions.
Relationships: Domeric Bolton/ Myranda Royce, Jaime Lannister/Dacey Mormont, Jon Snow/Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark & Willas Tyrell, Tyrion Lannister/Arianne Martell
Comments: 39
Kudos: 56





	1. Honor or Dishonor, That is the Question

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alperez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alperez/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Dragon Cub](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20365015) by [alperez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alperez/pseuds/alperez). 



> Ser Donnel Waynwood of Ironoak was squired under Ser Brynden Tully, aka, “The Blackfish. He was taught to always stand firm for a cause he believed in. But what happens when the man at the head of that cause starts to show his true colors? 
> 
> War has come once again to the Seven Kingdoms, and as acting Knight of the Bloody Gate, Donnel must make difficult decisions that show how being honorable and doing the right thing can be two very different things.

**Bloody Gate, 298 A.C**

**During the gathering of the Vale Army**

**Ser Donnel Waynwood, Acting Knight of the Gate**

Hard to believe that the world has changed so drastically in just a few short moons. It was not too long ago that Ser Brynden was making me acting Knight of the Gate while he and his nephew took a trip to Winterfell for his fathers wedding. I’ll admit, I had mixed feelings about them leaving. On one hand I was happy to be given such a great responsibility, but on the other hand I was not a fan of Lord Stark remarrying since it goes against the Seven. To be fair, I didn’t know why he had decided to set Lady Catelyn aside in the first place and he could very well have had a good reason but kept it quiet for his children’s sake. After all Ned Stark was known for being a very honorable man.

Which is why I felt so conflicted about this war. Something just hadn’t sat right with me since we received the call to arms. The feeling had started when word had spread about the Hidden Dragon known as Jon Snow. The stories I’d heard about him seemed too incredible to be believed. Up until recent events I did not think that it was possible for a bastard to rise so high outside of the Night's Watch and the Citadel. But low and behold he was able to do so. The numerous times I’d heard from small folk, merchants and other travelers about the boy’s accomplishments and his compassion for the poor and downtrodden made me believe to the point of wanting to meet him properly someday. Mostly so I could judge his character for myself.

Now I might never get that chance since we are now at war.

I didn’t understand what was going on at first. We received, as the other holds in the Vale, a shocking raven from Jon Arryn. I read it so many times that I could recite it word by word.

_By the order of his grace, King Robert Baratheon the first of his name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. We hereby declare that Joffrey Waters, Myrcella Waters, and Tommen Waters are bastards and not of the king's line and are stripped of all claim and rank. Furthermore, they and their mother have been charged and convicted of treason._

_Jon Arryn,_

_Hand of the King._

Those words had confused me and filled me with so many questions. How did they know? Were they certain? Had there been a trial? Was there any proof?

The last question was the one that stumped me the most. I had seen the children myself and I knew that they looked more like their mother than Robert, but that didn’t necessarily mean that they were bastards. After all, by all accounts Robb Stark looked more like a Tully than a Stark and yet no one had ever disputed his legitimacy. Hair and eyes are not adequate enough evidence so unless Cersei had confessed that her children are bastards then Robert had no legal way to make this declaration without starting a war with the West. I might not know much about politics, but I know a political fuck up when I see one. Especially when it involves a family as wealthy as the Lannisters. So why did Lord Arryn go along with this? 

The raven that came later made the situation even more unstable.

_To the Lords of the Vale,_

_By Order of his grace, Robert Baratheon The First of his Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I, Jon Arryn, Hand of the King and Lord Paramount of the Vale, do hereby call all banners to defend the King's honor against House Lannister and their allies, who failed to follow the orders given to hand over Tommen Waters so that he could face justice, and had also managed to steal Myrcella Waters away from our custody. Prepare for war, my Lords, and may the Seven lead us to victory._

_Lord Jon Arryn,_

_Hand of the King_

At that point I have more questions that fill my mind with worry. For starters, should we really be surprised that the Lannisters were refusing to hand their kin over to be punished? After all, Lord Arryn had refused to hand over his wards and they were not of his blood. How was what he did honorable and good but when the Lions did the exact same thing they were deemed traitors? It sounded a bit hypocritical. It also didn’t help that Tommen and Myrcella were 6 and 7 namedays old so I really did not feel comfortable going to war just so we could put two little children on trial because their mother was apparently cuckolding the king.

“Will we go to war, Ser?” Sandor Frey, my squire, had asked after I relayed the announcement to our garrison.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “But in any case, we should train more if we are to go to the front with the army.”

The sparring yard had been crowded for days and even nights, so much that I had to set a schedule for training so everyone could use it equally. Our garrison was eager to prove their worth in battle, myself included. It had been a long time since my last tourney and there weren’t a lot of action around here. Added to our numbers were those of the forces traveling to the Eyrie to answer the call. I watched proudly as most of the Houses of the Vale went through the gates, and I was even prouder to be the one to let them through. But with the men also came the rumors of what had happened in Kings Landing.

Robert’s Rage, they’d called it. 

_Robert’s madness_ , I’d thought. People were divided on the subject and I had to break up more than one fight in the resting areas. Some thought that the king was right to do so, as all those people who were in the know of Queen Cersei’s adultery and didn’t divulge it to the King, were traitors. Others thought that to accuse a woman of adultery was one thing, but to have an entire household and two Kingsguards executed without any form of trial was shameful. 

The most appalling rumor to me was the fate of Joffrey Waters.

I had heard a lot about the former prince turned bastard. That he was cocky, spoiled, arrogant and, simply put, not really pleasant to be around. That his mother doted on him and he wasn’t very good with a blade, which made him completely defenseless. That his former father had beaten him to death in front of his mother, to make her pay for humiliating him had sickened me to my core. But some believed that since he was a bastard, it was not something too tragic and that nobody other than the Lannisters would mourn him.

My conscience was telling me otherwise and I found my will to go to the front dwindling as the days passed.

The raven with the Three Headed Dragon’s seal transformed this already complicated situation into a true nightmare.

  
  


_To all the houses of Westeros who fought for Robert Baratheon._

_Four and ten years ago, you fought, bled and died in order to depose a monster that sat on the throne. What you've failed to realize then was that you had been used by a few ambitious men to place another monster on it. A monster who showed his true colors by killing dozens of innocents because he'd felt wronged and is now threatening to do the same to two innocent children who had the misfortune to be born bastards._

_Some people saw what kind of person Robert Baratheon was when he'd laughed over the bodies of two babes and their mother to get what he wanted, to end a family legacy and take control of the Realm. My uncle, the king's best friend and brother by choice, couldn't accept it and out of fear for my safety, perpetrated his own lie. So the trueborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen, who had married in front of the Seven after Elia Martell gave her blessing to have her marriage annulled by the High Septon himself, became a bastard called Jon Snow. The cover of bastardy protected me from Robert's wrath, until today._

_For House Targaryen who had been wronged by the usurper and his Hand, for those innocents who perished during Robert's Rage, I have to let the bastard die and my father's son take his place. For my mother, my father, my grandmother who had lost their lives for a lie perpetrated by Jon Arryn and Robert Bratheon, for my uncle, my aunt who had suffered needlessly because of this. For my brother and sister, for Elia Martell whose deaths have received no justice from the usurper. I rise and I call for you to raise your arms, to once more remove a monster from his throne, and claim justice for those who cannot._

_Jaehaerys Targaryen._

  
  


With that one raven the war with the Lannisters went from possible victory to extremely difficult. Even before this letter came I had a feeling that Lord Stark would not be calling his banners for two reasons. The first is because he and Robert had a near falling out over the bodies of Elia Martell and her children. The second being that his bastard had been fostered at Casterly Rock for years so he would not want to take the chance of going to battle against his own son. But this letter just changed things for the worst, for we are now badly outnumbered.

If a similar letter to this was sent out to every house in the realm then all of the houses who had supported the dragons during the rebellion will be answering his call. The Lords of the Narrow Sea would more than likely rise, as will half of the Riverlords, and the Reach. Add in the Northern Lords who were extremely loyal to House Stark and would gladly fight for a king that had Stark blood…

The septon has had to give me medicine for headaches on more than one occasion thanks to this mess.

Even in our own ranks the chaos was visible. We, at the Bloody Gate, with the exception of Ser Brynden, came from all regions of the Vale. There were a few hedge knights in our midst, but the rest of the knights and men-at-arms were from houses more or less important: most of the garrison came from the two branches of House Royce, some from my house, House Waynwood, and the rest came from House Redfort, House Templeton and House Grafton. While we were assigned to guard the Gate, we were also bound to follow our House’s lead. The spirit of the garrison, already on edge, went overboard when word came that House Grafton was not answering Lord Arryn’s call. Some of our men were called traitors and I was asked to send them to the Eyrie so that they could be imprisoned. I didn’t feel that they should be punished for the decision of the head of their House, so I gave them leave to go back to Gulltown. They decided to stay at their post, probably to prove that they weren’t traitors, and their commitment softened the view of their comrades for the moment.

House Redfort’s silence began to raise questions when House Waynwood arrived at the gates. The Redfort was closer to Ironoaks and it seemed strange that our retinue would arrive sooner than theirs. I greeted my mother, brother and the master-at-arm and asked them how their journey was.

“I dream of a warm bath!” Harrold, my cousin, said almost casually.

“I don’t think you’ll have one on the battlefield, cousin,” my brother retorted. 

“Then I might as well try my luck here!” Harrold grumbled.

“It will be difficult to accommodate you,” I said. “The barracks are full and everyone is trying to settle between here and the Gates of the Moon while they wait for Lord Arryn to arrive.”

“A shame, truly,” Harrold spat before walking away.

“Nice to see that he hasn’t changed since I last saw him.” I said sarcastically. Being Ser Brynden’s squire when I was growing up may have been the main reason why I lived and served here, but if I were to be completely honest with myself. Being away from Harry the Arse was another main reason. That idiot will never grow up and if those rumors about Lady Lysa and Littlefinger are true then I fear for the Vale under Harry’s leadership.

Mother didn’t stay long, preferring to travel as quickly as possible to the Eyrie when the soldiers were settled. Thankfully, I didn’t have to suffer Harry’s attitude, since he was too busy parading with his friends and bragging about having a chance to put Lions and and a certain Bastard down where they belonged. I was glad to spend some time with Morton. My brother was a good man who didn't dream of glory like most of the knights I knew. He reminded me of Mother with how he treated his son and I was relieved to see Roland wasn’t to fight this war.

“He was really eager to come, especially since Harry wouldn’t shut up about it. But Roland is my heir and I need him to rule Ironoaks if I fall.” Morton stated.

“At least Wallace will not whine since he isn’t the only one staying home!” I chuckled, not wanting to think about anything happening to my brother.

“He tried to ask Mother to let him escort her, but she said she knew him too well to give him a chance to travel to the front with the army by accident.” Morton japed.

We had a good laugh imagining the situation and were still bantering when the Royces arrived at the Gates.

Seeing the gravity of Lord Yohn’s face when he told some of the other Lords that the Redforts wouldn’t come was something I would never forget. Insults flew all around the barracks, words I would never have guessed some of the most respectable Knights knew to be honest. 

I didn’t know what to think. The Redforts were level headed, so what had motivated Lord Redfort to sit out of the conflict? Why wouldn’t Jasper or Mychel reason him? Were they fighting for the other side? Would Valemen fight against Valemen? The possibility worried me more than I would have imagined.

“We should go to these traitors and show them what it costs to defy the might of the Vale!” Harry had all but spat.

“I thought Mychel was your friend,” I pointed out absent-mindedly.

“When it comes to war, we cannot be sentimental. Moreover, Mychel got softer after the Tourney of King’s Landing. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he turned traitor, this one. Always moaning about honor like he was the only one who was in the right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. It’s just that we got into a silly banter about how things went wrong during the Tourney and why. Knowing his traitorous heart by now, I feel he deliberately made us lose to the bastard.”

I snorted, slightly amused by Harry’s presomption. Jon Snow’s swordsmanship was renowned in all Seven Kingdoms since he won the squires tourney in Lannisport. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jaime Lannister hadn’t created this only to show off young Snow’s skills and build up his squire’s legend.

Who wouldn’t love the story of the kind-hearted bastard squire turned Dragon Prince, after all?

I remembered how angry Ser Brynden had been when he had heard the Kingslayer taking the proof of his niece’s dishonor under his wing. I heard him say that as much he was relieved to see the boy go, he didn’t understand why someone like Jaime Lannister would take interest in a bastard. The answer was clear now. Whatever he saw in Jon Snow must have reminded him of Prince Rhaegar, and for him to claim his heritage so boldly, he must have had solid evidence to prove it.

“Do you believe what he says? Jon Snow, I mean, Jaehaerys Targaryen?” I asked Morton, who didn’t have time to answer.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Harry huffed. “This is clearly a plot between the Lannisters and the Starks to weaken our ranks and try to claim the throne!”

“Ned Stark isn’t one to crave power,” my brother disagreed. 

“Ned Stark is a Northern heathen and his bastard is even worse. He didn’t deserve to be knighted and it is against everything we stand for!”

“That bastard was knighted after he won the melee at the Tourney of Highgarden by our own King’s hands. Tell me Harrold, when have you ever won anything at a tourney?” I asked him with a little bite since I never believed that this fool ever should’ve been knighted in the first place.

“Might I remind you that I have earned my Knighthood after winning the squire’s tourney of Runestone, cousin?” Harry answered disdainfully.

“Forgive me, cousin. I forgot all about your exploits against the horde of Frey squires you’ve so valiantly vanquished” I japed. “I mean no offense, Sandor.”

“None taken, Ser,” my squire smiled graciously.

“How I won this tourney is a moot point.” Harry retorted. “We were talking about Jon Snow and he is like all bastards, willing to do everything, even sully his aunt’s memory, to rise above his status.”

“I don’t think -”

“Do you believe a faithless bastard over the word of your Liege Lord, Ser Donnel?” Harry yelled, visibly affronted. “Lord Jon Arryn, Defender of the Vale, Hand of the King, is going to war to restore the truth and set things right in the Seven Kingdoms.”

I heard grumbles of assent around me and found myself surrounded by unfriendly looks. Not wanting to escalate the situation, I shook my head and, after a quick apology, excused myself from the room.

To say I was shaken by this ordeal was clearly an understatement. My point wasn’t to discredit Lord Arryn’s character, but by defending Jon Snow’s I ending up doing just that. I should have realized that by believing the tale of the Hidden Dragon, I was also implying that my liege’s word wasn’t trustworthy. To speak that carelessly has almost made me look like a traitor and I should take more care about my words from this moment on.

My brother came to see me before heading to sleep and assured me that my argument with Harry was forgotten as soon as some music had been played and the barracks boasted with songs and laughter.

  
  


The last of the army arrived a few days later with Lord Arryn. He greeted his forces warmly, thanking them for answering the call, then asked some of the Lords to meet with him. I was surprised to be invited to this meeting, but he simply stated that I should be involved as the Knight of the Gate. 

The Hand of the King looked far older than he should and his emotions were displayed clearly on his face if someone took the time to look closely. 

"Firstly, some of you may have heard that damnable song." he said.

"A scandal, my Lords!"

"A disgrace!"

"We cannot let this slander stand!"

Lord Arryn lifted his hand and took a moment to try to school his features, in vain. I could still read the disgust and hatred, if not on the face, in how his words slurred as if they were laced with venom.

"I thank you my lords, but it pains me to say it's true, Robert is not my son, Lysa and Littlefinger have been involved behind my back." 

"My lord, your heir?" Lord Hunter asked.

"Is standing in this very tent, Harrold, step forward young man. My great-nephew Ser Harrold Hardyng is hereby named officially as my heir. Nestor has the paperwork and a copy has been sent to Lady Anya." he said.

"I thank you uncle, I shall endeavor to make you proud of me." Harry bowed theatrically and I looked at my brother who was trying hard not to roll his eyes like me.

"I'm sure you will nephew, but for now though I need you to ride back to Nestor and the Eyrie, you cannot ride with us. I've already lost far too much blood, I cannot risk my line ending." Harry wanted to protest but Lord Arryn gave him no chance to do so. "I cannot Harrold, go, take some of Lady Anya's men, but go, for House Arryn, you must."

"As you say uncle." Harry grumbling, visibly unhappy, before leaving the tent.

"We ride to the Riverlands my lords, to put that to rights and await the king and his reinforcements." Lord Arryn stated.

"Reinforcements, the Stormlords ride?" Lord Yohn asked.

"Under Lord Stannis yes, the king rides with a different larger army, the Golden Company, my Lords." he said to gasps and then smiles.

"They've come from Essos my lord, why?" Lord Lyonel Corbray said and I was glad he did.

"Our dealings with Magister Illyrio have been most helpful, thanks to his own arrangements with the Golden Company they fight on our side." he said seeing the nods around the room.

I tensed, as did Morton. Apparently we might have thought the same thing. The Golden Company was a formidable force consisting of a lot of disgraced Lords exiled from Westeros or bastards in quest of riches and glory. Contrary to the Wall, they put their military training not to protect but to gain wealth.

"The North my lord?" Lord Belmore asked.

"May have their own troubles soon enough," Lord Arryn's small smile sent shivers down my spine. "I've heard the Iron Born mean to take advantage of the armies of the western shoreline marching, surely they'll attack the North first. However, we'll need outriders behind us just in case, it may come down to us having to face the Northern army.".

"Then we'll cut through them my lord, savages are no match for the Knights of the Vale." Lord Egen said.

"If it comes to that aye, we will. We ride my lords, for our king, we ride." 

Cheers rose inside the tent as a bad feeling did in my heart. The way Lord Arryn talked about the Ironborn and his assurance that they would go North first was almost as if he had called for them to wreak havoc on them. Did the Crown associate with the faithless reavers? The support of mercenaries like the Golden Company was already too much for me. I found it distasteful to recruit people who were used to fight for slavers to do their dirty work. But the Ironborn were the scum of the realm, they couldn’t be trusted nor should they ever. 

I was about to leave the tent when Lord Arryn called my name.

“Walk with me, please, Ser Donnel.”

Startled, I nodded and followed his lead nervously. We walked in silence for a moment, while around us soldiers were packing to leave. Lord Arryn seemed to enjoy the commotion and the opportunity to appraise the numbers of his force.

“You’ve done well so far, Ser.” he said.

“My… My Lord?” I blabbered, not understanding.

“Some of the Lords have praised your handling of their settling in during this particular situation. I know you are just acting Knight of the Gate for now, but I commend your quick thinking. Ser Brynden was right to choose you.”

“I… Thank you, my Lord.”

“Who knows, maybe, if you continue to serve the Vale so faithfully, your role will be more permanent when this war is over.”

“But… Ser Brynden -”

“Isn’t here, Ser. And, to be honest, with the recent events and his ties to the North and my dishonorable wife, I am more comfortable with you taking the lead. To think we could have had a Stark hostage to keep Ned from declaring against us…”

Lord Arryn’s words shocked me literally into silence. 

“Lord Baelish is still missing. I gave Lord Nestor orders to have him apprehended as soon as he is seen. I would give you the same orders, Ser Donnel. Bring the man to the Gates of the Moon and do not let him go.”

“I… It will be done, my Lord.”

“Some of your comrades had expressed the wish to join us in war. I would prefer if the Bloody Gate was fully manned. We don’t know if the rebels would not try to take the Eyrie.”

“I understand. We will be vigilant, my Lord.”

“You have men from both the Redfort and Gulltown am I correct?”

“Yes my Lord, 5 and 30 of them total.”

“Have you had any problems with them.”

“No my Lord. Other than a few squabbles because some of the other men saw them as traitors and wanted them to be locked up in the Eyrie there haven’t been any problems. Mostly because when I gave the men of Gulltown leave to return to their homes, they declined and were determined to stay and do their duty to the Gate. Since then, the rest of the garrison has been treating them with respect.”

“I’m assuming that the same thing happened with the Redfort men?”

“Yes. The men of this garrison are loyal to each other and will never abandon the other. We are like a brotherhood here.”

“Oh I have no doubts of their loyalty to their comrades, but I do have plenty of doubts about their loyalty to my House.”

“I can understand that my Lord, but with all due respect, those men are duty bound to follow their houses lead. They are not responsible for the actions of their head of house, so it would be unfair to punish them in any way when they have committed no crime.”

“Oh I agree, but just in case, I want you to confiscate their weapons and keep a close eye on them. If they do cause any problems, they’ll be easy to gather into one place until I return and deal with them.”

Lord Jon then stopped walking, turned to face me and said, “Guard the Gate well Ser and do your house proud. I’ll send a raven with more instructions to you once I have put my former ward in his place.” As he turned to leave for his horse, the bad feeling I had been having in the pit of my stomach for weeks now was suddenly back with a vengeance. But now it felt a little different because I was also feeling anger towards the man. To order me to treat some of the men under my care differently than the rest just because they had the misfortune to be sworn to the wrong house. No, I wouldn’t do it, but I couldn’t tell him that, or else I’d be accused of treason and stripped of my position. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t do something about this, though. But first...

“My Lord? Before you go, Just out of curiosity, what will happen to Grafton and Redfort after the war is done and you are able to return?” I said with a calmness that I hoped and prayed hid my worry and anger.

Lord Arryn without turning around answered in a voice of steel and a sense of finality that I had never heard from him before, “His Grace and I gave them a second chance after the rebellion and they squandered it. They do not get anymore chances.” He then walked away leaving me behind as I still tried to grasp what had just happened.

This conversation overwhelmed me with a great feeling of dread for my friend and my former mentor. Two just and honorable men who didn’t deserve to be sentenced for the mistakes of others. With how Lord Arryn had spoken, I was certain Ser Brynden and little Brandon would have been imprisoned had they been at the Bloody Gate. For this I gave a little thanks to the Gods for where their journey had led them. 

Jasper and the Redforts, on the other hand, were in immediate danger. As night settled on the barracks, I was still thinking about Lord Arryn’s words. I wanted to warn my friend about what loomed over their heads. With luck, he would be able to convince his father to send some troops to the front. Being late was better than not showing up and would probably save their lives, at least I hoped it would.

That evening, long after my brother and the rest of the army had passed through the Bloody Gate, I sat in my solar mulling over how best to help my friend and get some answers to the questions that burn the hottest in my mind. The Ironborn issue was one of such, mostly because I did not believe that Jon Snow would send a raven to Pyke since he would know better than anyone that those reavers could not be trusted, since Lord Stark had housed a Greyjoy hostage at one time. So how could Balon Greyjoy have known that the realm was at war and the North would be defenseless? The only answer I could come up with is that either Robert or or Lord Jon gave him permission to reave along the western coast. Unfortunately that would have to wait for a time since I didn’t know anyone on the Small Council and they would be the only people who would know for certain if my theory was correct.

I did have some distant kin through my mother in the Stormlands who would be able to tell me about Lord Stannis’ army and their whereabouts. Morton had told me before he had left that something felt odd about the Stormlands since he was very certain that a few Stormhouses would refuse to answer the call because of Robert's actions and because they had a decent relationship with the Lannisters. So hopefully I would be able to find out for certain. I also have an acquaintance who lived in Kingslanding, a knight in service to the City Watch and the Captain of the River Gate, Jacelyn Bywater. A good and honorable man who would never tolerate the injustice of Roberts Rage. If anyone could tell me what had happened with Lady Lysa and provide me with more reliable information about the war then it would be him.

But I’ll have to choose my words carefully with both letters along with the one I intend to send Jasper. 

The letter to Ser Jacelyn would be the hardest because while he might not approve of Robert’s actions, I had no way of knowing if his house would support the dragons or not. Lady Shyra’s would be a bit easier since her son Sebastian is about the same age as Morton, so all I have to do was express a hope for the two of them to watch each other’s back during the conflict. I would then ask her if she knew how long it would take before Stannis met up with the Vale army. If I’m lucky then she’ll be able to confirm Morton’s suspicions without even realizing that she’s in fact outing Lord Jon as a liar. 

My letter to Jasper on the other hand would be both the hardest and easiest to write since I’d be writing as a friend who was speaking from the heart. 

So for the next 3 days I spent all of my spare time writing these letters until I had finally found the right words for each recipient. I then gave the sealed scrolls to Sandor with instructions to be discreet since the garrison was still slightly on edge. My squire did raise his eyebrows at me when I told him that one of the scrolls was bound for the Redfort but he thankfully did not question it since he knew Jasper and I were friends.

‘Now the only thing to do is wait and hope that the response I recieve is the one I want.’

  
  


**2 Weeks Later**

“A raven, Ser. From the Redfort.”

Dread and curiosity battled in my mind as I accepted the missive from my squire and went to read it away from prying eyes. It was the first response I had received from anyone but it was the one I was more eagerly waiting for. As it had been some time since I had sent the Raven to Redfort and as more and more time passed, I was afraid that I would receive no response. But I continued to wait and prayed constantly for an answer. For I did not want to receive orders from my liege to march on my friend. If that had happened then I would’ve refused and resigned from my post. Harry may not have any qualms about fighting a friend, but I do. And if that was treason then I wanted no part of a kingdom saying so.

So it was with great nervousness and anticipation that I opened the letter and read words that would change my life forever.

_“My friend,_

_It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter, knowing that you might judge me or my family unfavorably for not answering the call to arms our liege has sent._

_I bid you to consider the words I am about to write for the sake of friendship we once bore._

_After hearing some rumors following Robert's rage, my brother shared with us some evidence that Lord Arryn might not be the best person to follow. He all but confirmed what we heard about the tourney of King's Landing. Those events made us doubt Lord Arryn's sincerity and character and I'm afraid those rumors we heard about what he did to Lady Lysa and Lord Robert are mostly true, even worse than we could have imagined._

_I thank you for your warning. It comforts me in my choices. In any case, I cannot in good conscience follow someone who would use a knight to hurt children, or people based on the Houses they come from. My trust in my liege and his motives are compromised and I've asked my father to wait before sending any forces._

_We are ready to face the consequences of our actions should the Dragon fall, but I know in my heart that it was the right thing to do._

_I hope you can forgive me and I wish you good fortune my friend._

_Seven blessings,_

_Ser Jasper of House Redfort, Heir to the Redfort.”_

My heart pounded and I almost collapsed as Jasper's word confirmed my suspicions. I couldn't fault his reasoning but I wasn't sure I would have made the same choice. My family was close to Lord Arryn's, kin through Harrold and whether I liked it or not, the fact that the latter was Jon Arryn's heir would make it impossible to refuse our liege's command. 

Thinking about Lord Arryn almost made my blood boil. He was a model for a lot of people, a hero to the young ones. A man of honor who didn’t hesitate to go to war to protect his wards from the Mad King. A firm believer of the Seven and in chivalry. Has his time in King’s Landing as Hand of the King changed him that much? 

**_I shall ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor._ **

To ask young knights to hurt someone, even a bastard, without any cause was against everything I’ve learned. It was dishonorable and I didn’t know if I was more angry at those who tried to follow these orders or at the one who ordered them. The Gods would not look favorably upon those involved in this dishonorable act. That they didn’t succeed to harm Loras Tyrell and Jon Snow… Jaehaerys Targaryen… didn’t lessen anything. 

**_In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent._ **

That my liege didn't say anything during Robert's Rage was something that also disturbed me greatly.  
What King Robert had done to Queen Cersei, Prince Joffrey and their retinue was atrocious. Lord Arryn did not even condemn it, he excused it on behalf of the Seven, had called for Tommen Water’s head and what’s worse is that he had borrowed a page in Robert’s book to commit the same atrocities.  
  


The knowledge that Lord Arryn had actually thrown Lady Lysa and her son into the Black Cells without a trial makes me want to scream in rage. Even more so if the rumors about them being put in separate cells were true. I could understand punishing his wife but her son did not deserve to be punished for his mother’s betrayal. Fully grown men have been known to barely survive a relatively short stay in the Cells with their minds mostly intact. A small sickly child however would more than likely not survive more than a fortnight let alone the many moons that it would take for this war to end and for Lord Arryn to return to King’s Landing in order to give his wife an actual trial. As far as I was concerned, Jon Arryn had already sentenced that poor boy to die for the crime of being born a bastard.

**_I shall ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor_ ** _._

I couldn’t help but to feel there is something else we don’t know. That Jon Arryn’s motives weren’t those he claimed. As Knights of the Vale we were supposed to protect those who cannot defend themselves, but there we were fighting the West, the North and the Reach so the King could kill two children.

**_In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent._ **

House Lannister rose justly to protect Tommen and Myrcella. They didn’t ask to be born nor did they choose whose parents they have. Everyone in the Vale knew how Robert Baratheon was. Stories of his exploits and misdeeds had been told ever since I could remember. Poor Mya Stone was a living example of his indiscretions, as was Edric Storm, but it could be overlooked since a lot of noble men have had bastards. Even Ned Stark, who was cited as the spiritual heir of Lord Arryn when people spoke about honor, was believed to father one and not criticized for it. But Robert didn't care about being king other than to have a court of whores at his disposal and it was common knowledge than Jon Arryn ruled in his stead while trying to curb his former ward's appetites and temperament. He was the one in charge and he chose to go to war after having initiated it. Thousands of people would die for the fate of two bastards. Three, if we counted Jon Snow. 

‘But he isn’t a bastard, is he?’ 

Jon Snow, Jaehaerys Targaryen, whatever name he had, seemed to me more honorable than my liege lord. He condemned Robert’s behavior and demanded justice for those killed during Robert’s rage and also for his brother, sister, and Elia Martell’s murders during the sack of King’s Landing. Another crime committed and not condemned by Lord Arryn. The more I thought about my liege’s actions, or lack of in this case, the more I believed he wasn’t who we thought he were.

**_I shall ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor._ **

I stored the missive in a safe place and got back to my post. Those conflicting thoughts don’t leave me and I tried my best not to show my turmoil. I sparred with Sandor, taking in the moment to forget about everything and release the tension gripping my whole body. The poor boy is exhausted but I’m proud of him, even if I won’t say it out loud. He's made a lot of progress so far and takes his role seriously.

My emotions came back as soon as I stopped fighting, so did the tension. I missed having Ser Brynden there. He would know what to think and what to do. For the moment I was glad to stay at my post. I guessed I could understand Jasper’s stance. I didn’t know if I would be able to fight for someone I didn’t trust, and I certainly could no longer believe a single thing Jon Arryn has said or would say as of late.

I really needed to talk to someone, to ease this burden weighing on my shoulders, but I feared the others' reactions. Would they think me a traitor, as they did Jasper? Would they understand my internal conflict? I found myself not even trusting my brothers in arms, those I trained, ate, laughed and cried with. I feared I was going mad with all these thoughts.  
  


The little sept was welcoming, as usual, when I used to feel the need to pray for guidance. I knelt in front of the Mother and longed for mine at that instant. 

Lady Anya Waynwood might be a woman, but she knew how to rule her lands as well, if not better than the other Lords. After Lady Lysa in her time, she might have been the most influential Lady in the Vale. She is a practical woman and people look up to her when things go dire. Most of all, she would do anything to see our family in its rightful place. If there was someone beside Ser Brynden whose opinion would be indisputable, it was her.

I knew that my mother was in the Eyrie, watching over the new heir of the Vale, but I couldn’t leave my post since I was the Knight of the Gate, so I sent word for her to come to me. In the note that sent her I expressed the need for urgency and hoped and prayed that she would be able to come today. 

Three days later, not long after Sandor and I had finished our midday meal, my mother had arrived with several Waynwood guards to escort her down pass.

A part of me was glad to see the concern in her eyes when I helped her dismount, while I felt a little bit of guilt to have her worried so.

“I thank you for coming on such short notice, Mother.” I said as we arrived in my temporary solar.

“You said it was urgent and you needed me.”

“I do. Mother, the Redforts…”

“Have chosen not to answer the call. I know.” Mother cut me abruptly. “Is there something else we should know? Have they pledged themselves to the Targaryen?”

I grabbed the letter and gave it to her. After a long moment of excruciating silence, she let out a huge sigh and sat down, still lost in her thoughts. After a few more moments she finally turned to me and spoke words that I never imagined she would ever say in a voice I had never heard before. Almost like a mixture of sadness, relief and anger.

  
“I’ll be completely honest with you Donnel, I don’t know what to think about this. Truly, my mind is in a strange state of both confusion and clarity.”  
  


“I’m not sure I understand mother.”

“You were but a little boy when the Rebellion happened,” Mother started. “But I remember it clearly as if it was yesterday. How people were stunned to learn that Prince Rhaegar had kidnapped Lady Lyanna, myself included. He was the clear opposite of his father and we had faith that he would be a great king, greater than any other Targaryen before him. Your father… He was at the Tourney of Harrenhal. While he’d found Prince Rhaegar’s actions shameful, he also saw Robert Baratheon’s actions as not being any better and in some ways much worse. As usual, he’d led servants and charmed other ladies to his bed, while claiming his undying love for Lyanna Stark. Jon Arryn was quick to judge Prince Rhaegar as a disgraceful and dishonorable man who was showing how careless he was for the people of the realm. He was quick to inform all the Lords of the Vale of what had happened at Harrenhal, painting the prince as someone covetous and selfish, saying that it was the first step of madness and that he was scared of the future of the Seven Kingdoms. Then, almost as if fate would have it, a young maid came while Lord Arryn was hearing petitions. She said that was a servant in the Crossroad Inn looking for Robert because she was with his child and she'd been cast out of her parent’s house. She wanted nothing for herself, just to be sure that her child would be taken care of when the time would come, because she wouldn’t be able to do it herself.”

“We all know Robert has a lot of bastards,” I intervened. “What does it have to do with the matter of the letter?”

“If you’d let me finish, you would understand my point.” she answered curtly, making me shiver with how cold her voice became. “We never heard of the girl or her child after this. She simply… vanished. And when asked about the subject, Lord Arryn dismissed it as if it was nothing. I always suspected he’d taken… radical actions to solve the matter. Mya Stone was problematic enough for him and he never hid his displeasure about having to care for Robert’s bastard.”

“You… You think he’d killed the maid?” I blubbered, dumbfounded. “And you’ve said nothing about it?”

“Would you have believed it before this letter, Son?”

I was about to answer, affronted, but froze when our gaze met. The truth is, I don’t know if I would have. Jon Arryn was someone I admired and who I aspired to resemble one day. It took until I had received this letter for my opinion to change but I still have moments of denial. But those moments were slowly but surely dwindling into nothingness. Hearing my mothers words however is making the wall of denial crumble even faster than I dared to think possible.

I then closed my eyes, took a calming breath and said with a voice of defeat, “ No, I wouldn’t have. Not if I hadn’t written to Jasper and gotten his response.”

“It was after your father's death that everything made sense to me,” she continued. “Your father was a good man. Never had I met someone so true in my life. We had our differences, assuredly, but he never made me feel my opinions were less important than his because I was a woman. You were already squiring when he died, so you're probably not even aware of all of this, but even if you were it wouldn’t have changed anything. You cannot imagine how many fights I had with Lord Arryn because I didn't want to remarry. It wasn't my place to rule my lands, according to him, even if I was the heir to Ironoaks. A woman had no say about her role in society. She was there only to produce heirs and fulfill her womanly duties, as the Seven Pointed Stars taught us. I argued that my children would be at risk if I ever had a new husband, I heard too many stories of greedy men usurping their wife's sons to take a chance of that happening to Morton or even yourself. Jon Arryn threatened to force me to marry. I told him that if he didn't believe me to be capable of ruling Ironoaks, to give it to Morton instead, but I would stand my ground for the safety of my children. I was shunned by a lot of people. More than you can imagine. I feel like I got a taste of the Seven hells all because I was a woman who was reaching too high according to Lord Arryn.”

She almost spat her last words and I could feel years of suffering, resentment and contained anger in this frail woman who was my mother. I didn't know how much she'd endured and I felt guilty for not thinking about it either.

She must have perceived my emotions because she took my hand and gave me a small smile.

“See how we've grown. Our lands prosper, my son is the Knight of the Gate and soon our kin is going to be the next Lord Paramount of the Vale. That's more than I could have asked the Seven and I'm certain there's more for us in the future.” she said assuredly.

“But, Lord Arryn... The war...”

“Trust me, I hate to have to follow his orders, knowing his true character. But we don't have the luxury to behave as the Redforts. We are between a rock and a hard place, my son, but Jon Arryn's fury will unleash way worse on us because he's already prejudiced towards our family.”

“I understand that mother, but even if Lord Arryn does return victorious he’s not going to be able keep what he did to Lady Lysa and her son a secret. That boy has always been sickly looking and does not deserve to be in the Black Cells. He’ll die from being down there separated from his mother. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already dead.”  
  


“How did you get this information?” she asked, frowning.

“This is not the point! He… Wait. You knew about it?”

I stopped to take a breath when I realized that I was starting to raise my voice at her. I can’t take the risk that someone will hear us and get too curious for their own good. But more importantly, I had come very close to raising my voice to my own mother. 

“Mother I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to forgive son. You’re not the only one asking around for more details from other Kingdoms, although I wish you would be more cautious when you talk to people who aren’t family.” Mother said. “I understand your frustration, more than you can ever imagine. But unfortunately there’s nothing we can do about this. If Lord Arryn wins this war, he will twist the truth as he always does, and people would be too afraid to rise against him. ”This is the way of the world. Those who have power can do anything they want. Remember, it was because of the ties of the North, the Riverlands, the Stormlands and the Vale that we rose against the Mad king. He's been burning people for years before anyone dared to oppose him.”

“But Rickard and Brandon Stark, Elbert Arryn, Kyle Royce... You rose to avenge them, right?”

“We rose because the time was right to do so and we were supported by three other realms. Had we not then I'm certain Jon Arryn would have given up on his wards to keep his head.”

“It was the right thing to do!” I stubbornly retorted in shock. “He was honor bound to protect his wards!”

“My sweet, sweet boy,” she tutted as one of her hands rose to caress my cheek. “Sometimes I forget how naive men can be. Do you think it's honor that made Jon Arryn wed Lysa Tully before heading to war? Or Ned Stark, Catelyn Tully? As far as I know, they had ample reasons to rebel without having to wed. No, it was to solidify alliances and to make sure that no one would go back on their word. Honor had nothing to do with the Rebellion. The betrothals had been set a long time before the Rebellion. Hoster Tully, Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon and Rickard Stark were all waiting for the right moment to strike, and Prince Rhaegar had served them an excuse on a silver platter.”

To hear my mother confirm that the rebellion was based on a lie was hard for me to hear. Even more so knowing that my father had died doing what everyone had believed to be a conflict meant to keep Lord Arryn's wards safe from harm and to avenge those who had been murdered by a tyrant.

But wait, if mother had deduced all of this before the Rebellion, did that mean father had known as well? The answer to that question was one that I dreaded, but I needed to know for certain.

“Mother, did father know that the rebellion was a lie? Did he know about Lord Arryn’s true nature?”

“No, not entirely at least. Your father and I suspected that there was more to the story than just simply revenge, justice and a rescue. But we didn't have any proof and at the time we felt that this was the only way to make the Mad King pay for his many crimes. Moreover, your father was a Knight of the Vale, honor bound to answer the call. It was extremely difficult for him not to question his liege's orders, especially after the taking of Gulltown. It broke his heart to be forced to fight against Valemen. The Graftons were, are good people and I admire how the son follows in his father's steps. Robert Baratheon killed Lord Marq and the Graftons to this day have suffered much worse than we ever did. I cannot fault Ser Gerold for not wanting to join the ranks.”

“But you would have us to follow Jon Arryn even after all of this?”

“I would have my family to survive,” she countered. “Believe me, I wish that Morton didn't have to go. I want you all to be safe.”

“We won't be safe if the Dragon wins.”

“If what we heard about this boy is true, we have more chances of a pardon for following our liege's orders than for Jon Arryn to forgive us should we stay out of it. I do not think you realize how dangerous this man is. As Hand of the King, he has more influence than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. And he has shaped the fate of the realm for far longer than he’s been hand. This man has seen the ruin of the Targaryens, the death of Prince Rhaegar. For I know for a fact that he wanted Rhaegar dead.” 

“How? How would you know?”

“I am but a woman, but I know the rules of war. Wouldn’t Ned Stark ask for a parlay before the battle of the Trident? Wouldn’t he try to ask the one who kidnapped his sister his reasons to do so, or at least if Lady Lyanna was alive? Wouldn’t Rhaegar ask for a parlay in order to speak and appease Lord Stark?”

“You think Lord Arryn is responsible for the lack of parlay?”

“Don’t underestimate Jon Arryn's cunning, Donnel. He’s so well respected that nobody would question his motives. This… thing with Lady Lysa and her son just shows how people are not even contemplating the possibility of Lord Arryn lying. His word is law and this, my son, is the root of the problem.”

Mother was getting more and more agitated and I felt she was on the verge of losing her calm. I’ve rarely seen her scared as far as I remembered. Maybe during tourneys when we were competing, Morton, I, and more recently Wallace, but never to this extent. The thought of anyone making my mother feel this way angers me. But anger is not what she needs, so I need to hold it in until I can spar again. So instead, I knelt down to her level and took her hand in my own to give her some of my strength and as much comfort as possible. I can’t imagine how difficult these last 4 and 10 years have been for her. To lose your husband in a war caused by an ambitious, dishonorable man who has purposely failed to live up his house words and to then be in the uncomfortable position to continue serving such a man.

“ **_As High as Dishonor”_ ** should be the new words of House Arryn. I pray to all the Seven that the falcon will pay for his crimes. But the only way that will happen is if he and Robert lose this war and a dragon sits on the throne again. But will that happen? Is it possible? It might be since Robert is facing far greater odds than he did before. 

“Mother? Do you believe that Robert and Lord Arryn will be victorious?”

“I honestly don’t know son. Only the gods know what will happen in this war.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t speculate about the outcome, mother.” 

I grabbed a map of Westeros and laid it out for her to see.

“Take a look at this. Both the Lannisters and the Tyrells have very large formidable armies with capable commanders and large enough coffers to keep them sustained for years if it was necessary. The Tully’s will have an even harder time rallying their bannermen compared to Lord Hoster since his son is such a dislikable idiot. And if the Northern forces are as fierce in battle as they are during tourneys, then our forces are certain to suffer great losses when they engage them. While Robert has a few Riverlords that can give him 8-10,000 men at best. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the numbers are even lower than that.”

“After what happened in Kings Landing with the honor joust and the fool actually raising a toast to a dead child you are probably right.” She said with a small smile. 

I laughed, glad to see that she’s feeling less agitated now. “As for Robert’s forces, the crownlands can only call on so many men and there are several Stormlords who will not answer the call for various reasons. So about 10,000 men in the crownlands, 15-20,000 for the Stormlands, and 20,000 men of the Golden Company. If His Grace is very lucky, then he is evenly matched in terms of the number of men that are answering the call. But the Demon of the Trident has gotten very fat so if he were to face the dragon head on in a one on one fight then he would lose.”

I could only hope that it wouldn’t be my brothers or any of the Vale men that I have come to know and be friends with over the years that would fall in this war. When I looked at my Mothers face I could tell that she was lost in her thoughts, probably thinking about Morton and what he was about to face.  
  
“Come,” I said softly to her, walking to the door. “Let us go to the Sept and pray for a moment. Then I’ll bring you to your room. You need some rest.”

She followed me in silence and seemed to welcome the offer as much as I did. Whatever we were feeling and hoping, we would let the Gods decide our fate. For now, we needed to find some peace in our hearts as people were depending on us.

The next morning saw my mother and her guards preparing their journey back to the Eyrie. I had one last question to ask her. A question that I had been asking myself for years but never actually spoke the words to her face. After everything she had told me about Lord Arryn’s true nature and her past interactions with him, the answer started to form in my mind, but I needed to know for certain.

“Before you leave mother, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. Did Lord Jon’s nature and past treatment of our house have anything to do with why you put up with Harry’s stupidity and arrogance? You never put up with either Morton, Wallace or myself behaving like him.”

She turned to me, showing me her eyes filled with regret and some shame. “To be completely honest,” she said with a voice that matched her eyes. “I had tried to curb Harry’s behavior in the past with very little success for several reasons. But it was mostly because I was always worried that any act that would’ve had done far more to set him right beyond a simple slap and lecture duet would have more than likely have been reported to our liege.”

“Reported by who, our servants? Surely not!”

“No, not our servants. They have always been loyal to our family. Harry on the other hand was always writing letters to Lord Jon telling him about his progress as our ward. That boy may be a fool but he does have some awareness as to how much I needed him for our house to prosper. Believe me, if he wasn’t our kin and I thought for one moment that our house could function properly without having to put up with his arrogant behavior, nor would I have to worry about a falcon looking over our shoulder, then I would’ve done far more to keep him in line over the years. Unfortunately I never had that luxury.”

I Shook my head and said, “Knowing him, that makes perfect sense to me.”

I then grabbed Mother’s hand and smiled sadly. I wasn’t jealous of the attention she’d given Harry over the years, but I felt like we’d grown closer since I learned about all she went through and I welcomed the thought. If I had to find one good thing out of this ordeal, it would be this.

“I wish I could do something to ease your burden,” I said truthfully.

The words I spoke put a small smile on her face but this one looked far truer than any I had ever seen her wear.

“I carry this burden gladly knowing that doing so keeps my family safe and happy. You never need to worry about me. There are only two things you need to focus on, taking care of your men and praying for your brother's safety. Whatever happens with this war, know that I love you and I will support you in whatever you decide for your life.”

And with that, she kissed my cheek and walked over to her horse where one of her guards was waiting to help her up. After she was settled into her saddle, she turned to me and said, “One more thing before I go son. Everything I have told you yesterday and today. I never told anyone, not even Morton.”

“What? Why? Why me?” I asked, feeling a bit dumbfounded.

“Because before the rebellion your father was the only person I felt that I could talk to about anything and everything. When he died I didn’t think that there was anyone else I could talk to about my burdens. Plus I didn’t want you or your brothers to ever have to worry about me. But now, I think I have found someone. Someone who has his father’s heart and his strong sense of justice. Know that he is looking down on you with pride. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” She then gave me one last smile before she turned her horse to lead her men back to the Eyrie.

I was probably grinning like a fool, rooted in place, watching her silhouette disappear in the horizon. My heart swelled with this feeling I couldn’t quite explain. It was as if I was craving for my mother’s approval all my life and, while knowing that I never disappointed her, to hear it from her was wonderful and rewarding. She had compared me to my father and it was no small feat for me. All in one I was right to call for her, as her visit had solidified my point of view about the situation and also had lifted my spirits for a long moment.

Or so I thought, until dark wings once again shook my world to its very core. If I had proof before that Lord Arryn was a despicable man, at that exact moment I had everything to bring him down in front of the Lords of the Vale. I was no fool, I knew I needed to bid my time to expose the truth, but I would make it my mission to denounce every lie Jon Arryn had perpetrated. 

**_For honor, for justice, for my family, should it be the last thing I’ll ever do, I swear it on the Seven._ **

“Ser! Ser! You have to come, quick!” Sandor yelled, barging into the solar.

“What is it?”

“Banners, Ser! From House Royce of Runestone! They’re approaching the gates!”

I all but ran to the bridge, my heart pulsating so fast I could hear it, and I tried to compose myself while watching the convoy stop at a reasonable distance.

"Who would pass the Bloody Gate?"


	2. Honor, Wolves, Snakes and Dragons Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Bronze Yohn Royce has left his Liege Lord on the eve of battle for honorable reasons. But others may not view his actions as honorable. Will unexpected allies help him expose the true face of the honorless falcon? Or will enemies who were once friends stand in his way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is inspired by the The Dragon Cub by Alperez. Each chapter is missing scene from key moments in the original story and a chance for us to answer a few what if questions.

**Several Miles outside the Bloody Gate, 298 A.C**

**Bronze Yohn Royce, Lord of Runestone**

Anger, reproach, deception, disgust, hatred. Those were the emotions everyone displayed when they stared at me. Everyone except from my son, but the sadness I could see was even more heartbreaking to me. When we set our camp the night after we walked out from the Vale’s settlement, I gathered the higher ranks under my tent and tried to explain my reasoning for leaving. Did I expect it to go well? Of course, not, but I was not expecting the waves of reproach addressed to my person either.

“Good men of House Royce, I know you are all eager for an explanation for our departure,” I started. “Things were said during the parley. Things that didn’t sit well with me.”

_“What kind of things, my Lord?”_

“Other than the fact that the Northern felt over confident, like they had something up their sleeve that made them almost cocky in front of us. Other than seeing Ned Stark, who we fought with in the last rebellion and who is known for his fierce attitude regarding his sister, completely lose his cool and almost exploded in rage I’ve never guessed he had in him… I also heard Lord Arryn lie to our face. In plain sight.”

“What? What sort of lie would make you leave, my Lord?” Samwell, my master at-arms asked.

“He lied to us about the legitimacy of Jaehaerys Targaryen.”

Roars of indignation rose in the garrison and I could hear some of my men cursing at the false Dragon.

“With all due respect, my Lord, I don’t think it is reason enough to go back on our word.”

“Jon Arryn looked me in the eyes and told me Ned Stark was using his bastard as a means to grab power from Robert. But in front of his former ward named the supposed bastard his nephew. If he lied to us about this, what else had he lied to us about?” I persisted. “I’m telling you that this war is based on fallacies. First of all they told us that Queen Cersei’s children are bastards, without any proof other than the queen had had lovers. While it is shameful, it doesn’t warrant the children’s death. Then the same sentence came for Lord Arryn’s wife and son. The Lannisters could have risen only to back Tommen’s claim, but they decided to rally under Jaehaerys’ banner.”

_“Then it is a war against us and the Dragons. We will be preventing Aerys’ madness for accessing the throne once more. It’s more than enough for me to help my fellow Valemen.”_

_“I mean no offense, my Lord, but I feel like your friendship with Ned Stark got the better of you. I understand that you don’t want to fight him, but -”_

“Are you really questioning my integrity?” I yelled, outraged.

_“I’m sorry, but in this case, it seems quite doubtful, my Lord. We rose for the king who once more has been wronged by people he considered family.”_

“We rose for a murderer and a liar, and On my honor as a Knight, I will not have it.”

_“What of our duty to our people? Even if you’re right about Jon Arryn, our brothers are fighting right now. They don’t even know about the Western forces trying to ambush them! They don’t deserve to die!”_

“Nobody deserves to die, good Sers.”

_“Then let us go back and at least protect them from the rear!”_

“No. We are going back to Runestone. I will not have any of my men associated with this disgrace. My decision is final.”

A heavy silence fell on the tent and the men left one by one, not without glaring at me meaningfully. Only Andar, my son, stayed inside, looking worried. I sighed loudly and grabbed something to drink.

“Are you sure about all this, Father?”

“You too, you think I’m in the wrong?” I said dejectedly.

“I… Truthfully, I don’t know what to think. I really don’t understand your reasoning, but I’m with you, Father. Always.”

I was grateful for Andar’s support but the reaction of my men bothered me. Of course I understood their want to fight but I could feel in my guts that we shouldn’t do this. The Vale was on the wrong part in the spectrum of morality. I couldn't believe I was the only one seeing this.

I found myself unable to sleep that night and very few the next one. I could hear the whispers about me everywhere I went. 

_  
Traitor_

_Northern Lover_

_Coward_

_A disgrace to the Vale_

_False Knight_

Those were the words of people I was trying to protect and save. Thankfully, I still had loyal men who defended me, but the tension was high and fights broke out several times on the road. Andar, fearing for my safety, never left my side unless he was sure I was surrounded by trustful men. We ate in my tent, at least Andar did since I had no appetite, and we also took turns sleeping in case of a mutiny. I was tired, physically and morally. I just wanted to go home and leave this ordeal behind me.

“We’re almost at the Bloody Gate”, my son remarked as we settled for another night. “We’ll arrive probably at the end of next day. Do you think they’ll let us through?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” I frowned.

“Well, we went against our liege’s orders. We’ll be considered as deserters, Father.”

I haven’t thought about that. My mind was too preoccupied by my desire to take as much distance from the battleground that I could and by my men’s reactions. I didn’t stop to realize that we would indeed be dubbed as traitors in the Vale. Had I condemned my forces to death in my attempt to save them?

“I’m the one who gave the order. If someone has to be punished, it will be me. I take full responsibility for my actions, so I’ll surrender to the Knight of the Gate as long as they let you all through.”

“You won’t be alone, Father. They will have to go through me if they wish to punish you.”

“Andar, you are the future of the family. If you have something to fight for, it’s the safety of our household. See them return home safely while I face the justice of my liege and my Gods.”

“I will never leave your side! Especially not to help those ungrateful --”

“Enough!” I yelled. “I know we and them don’t see eye to eye for now, but I hope one day they will understand and forgive me for my actions. They are like family to me and it is my duty as Lord, as is yours as heir, to see them safe. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Andar grumbled, although I was not convinced he would listen to me. As glad as I was to see my son ready to defend his father through thick and thin, he also needed to harvest a good relationship with the others should the Crown win the war and I lose my life for what happened. He would be in charge of restoring House Royce’s honor if had chosen wrongly.

I heard people whispering near my tent. They probably thought I was sleeping. They wanted to bind me and to bring me to the Bloody Gate in chains so they would be seen as loyal to Jon Arryn and then rush back to rejoin the Army. My heart broke even more when I heard who was involved in this conversation. 

“We have to act, now.”

“I… I don’t know if I can do that…”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, that’s not… I know we have to do this, but…” 

“You know what will happen to us, Samwell. We have to show the Vale we’re not traitors, especially you, since you are a bastard.”

“I’m a knight, like you all!”

“Yes, but a bastard knight all the same, knighted by Lord Yohn, moreover. It doesn’t leave you in a good position, my friend.”

“You’ll be the first one in the execution line, seeing you’re close to him and his family.”

“I … I … Andar will be a problem. He won’t let us arrest his father.”

“Then we’ll have to make him see reason. He trusts you Samwell, so will you at least try?”

“Aye. I’ll try. For the Vale.”

“For the Vale.”

I turned around and almost gasped as my eyes caught my son’s. He wasn’t sleeping either and I could see that he too felt betrayed and disappointed in our master at arms. Ser Samwell Stone had taught him a lot throughout the years and we considered him as part of the family. How they managed to turn him against us was a mystery, but it wouldn’t be something easily forgotten. 

I slowly unsheathed the sword I had hid under my covers and my son did the same, while pretending to still be asleep. We heard four distinct sets of steps and I gripped the pommel hard, saying a quick prayer to the Seven to forgive me for what I was about to do.

“One on the left, two on the right behind me. One is guarding the entrance” I heard Samwell whisper to me and my heart missed a bit. “I hope you’ll forgive the mummery.”

“Shh! You just need to step aside if you can’t stomach it.” one of the mutineers spat silently.

“Now, my Lord!” Samwell yelled.

I sprung into action and used the back of my blade to subdue my attackers. I didn’t want to hurt them, for a part of me understood their motives, but on my life I swore they would be the ones bound in chains at the end of this fight. I managed to take the first one by surprise, the blow I gave him enough to make him pass out. The tent was not an ideal place to fight with a sword, so I took my dagger and plunged it in my second attacker’s thigh, the commotion just enough to distract him before I could give him a powerful headbutt. 

The scuffle lasted a minute or so, Andar took care of his assailant swiftly and Samwell just had time to subdue the man who kept watch before Andar punched him hard. I had to restrain my son for doing more damage to my master-at-arms

“You! We trusted you and you betrayed us so?” he asked, almost murderous.

“It was all a ruse, I swear, Ser! I would never…”

“Andar, stop!”

“Why, Father? You heard what he said outside!”

“He warned me, son. He knew we weren’t asleep.”

This made Andar pause and Samwell, who was scrambling to tie the culprits, explained his plan to us.

“I had to play along, Sers, when they came to me to ask for my help. They wanted to go back to the front with Lord Yohn bound as a proof of their loyalty to Lord Arryn and the Vale. I didn’t want to come to you without proof, as you always say Lord Yohn, the intent is a thing but the action is worse. I knew you weren’t sleeping and they were pressuring me to act during my shift. They wanted to do it before we reached the Bloody Gate or else they feared you would be arrested there and they wouldn’t be allowed to leave either. But I… I would never betray you, my Lord, Ser. I might not get why you do what you do, but you knighted me, my Lord. You gave me everything I have and made me the person I am to this day. My loyalty goes out to you first before the Vale.”

This declaration of faith moved me greatly and invigorated me. While my son calmed down, visibly touched by Ser Samwell’s words also, I thought of the aftermath of the attack. Killing them for their failed attempt would only fuel the hatred of the others. I had no choice but to keep them alive. 

“Gather some men you are certain you can trust, Ser Samwell.” I ordered. “Those men are now in your custody until we reach the Bloody Gate. Then they’ll be sent to the Wall.”

“But, Father…”

“While in other circumstances I would not hesitate to take their head for their insubordination, I can also understand their motives. They didn’t try to kill me, that’s the only thing that saved their lives today. Go now, get them out of my sight, and tell the others that we’re leaving.”

“My Lord?”

“I can’t risk another mutiny. They will get no rest until we reach the Bloody Gate.” 

They nodded and went to relay my orders while I took down the tent, still shaken by what had happened. 

_By the Seven, what trouble did I get myself into?_

The whispers and constant murmurs of discontent grew stronger, getting on my last nerves. The physical and mental exhaustion didn’t help either.

**3 days later**

Finally, the imposing shape of the Bloody Gate came into view. Rather than making me relieved, I felt another weight pulling me down. How would my peers judge me? Would they understand? Would they make my men pay even if I explain everything to them? I couldn’t even understand why I acted like I did. I just followed my instinct and I really hope it wouldn’t get my family killed.

A huge knot nestled on my throat as I stopped, ready to face my fate. Andar stopped next to me and pressed his hand on my shoulder, as to give me some courage. I could see Ser Donnel watching me from the bridge.

“Who would pass the Bloody Gate?” He asked solemnly.

“Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone. Knight of the Vale, willing to bring his men home.”

“Is the war over, Lord Yohn? Why can’t I see other banners?”

“I don’t know about the war, Ser. I decided to turn back and stay out of the conflict.” I took a deep breath as I could feel the accusing eyes of the men guarding the gate boring into me. “I know what it looks like and I stand ready to answer for my actions. However, I would like my men to be absolved for any wrongdoings I might have committed. They only followed my order and it shouldn’t be fair if they were punished because of me.”

An excruciating silence fell on the road while Ser Donnel talked animatedly with someone. I saw the lad he was talking to disappear and, as I couldn’t hold it much longer and was about to repeat my plea, the door opened and the lad walked out toward me. My heart beat faster when I caught what he was bearing.

“As long as you stay at the Bloody Gates, you and your men are under guest rights. No harm will come for you if you relinquish your swords and swear on your honour not to take arms against us for your time in our walls.” Ser Donnel declared and I was submerged with relief when I took with trembling hand the offered bread and salt.

I almost choke on it in my eagerness to answer, making my son chuckle beside me. He also received the bread and salt, so did some more of my men. Behind me, I could hear sighs of appeasement. Guest rights were sacred in these lands and we knew we were safe from that moment on.

“Welcome, Lord Royce, Ser Andar. I am Sandor Frey, Ser Donnel’s squire. If you will follow me to my knight’s solar, there are people here waiting for you.”

I looked at my son, completely lost. People waiting for us? Who would know that we were coming back? Did Lord Arryn send people to arrest me already? The boy’s genuine smile let me hope it wasn’t something bad, so, after making sure that my prisoners would be taken care of, I followed him with a lot of apprehension.

“Lord Yohn, Ser Andar, a pleasure to see you safe.” Ser Donnel greeted us warmly.

“Is it?” I frowned, so lost about the welcome I didn’t feel I deserved.

“You are among friends here. I don’t know what pushed you to sit out of the war, but I will not judge especially after everything I’d learned since you left. Sandor, fetch our guest something to eat. We already have refreshments inside but seeing how exhausted you look, you might also be hungry.

I nodded while his squire obeyed his order and I followed the Knight of the Gate inside in solar, only to freeze once more when I found out who was there.

“What… What is the meaning of this?” I stuttered.

“I’m so glad to see you safe, Father.” Robar, my second son, came to hug me.

“Your son arrived this morning with a garrison of your men. They rode hard from Runestone to be sure to defend you should we not let you through”. Donnel explained.

“H-how did you…”

“I’m the one to blame, Father.” Andar intervened. “When you told me we were leaving and I saw how the men were behaving, I feared the same would happen here, so I asked for a coursier to bring a letter to be sent by raven to the nearest town. I didn’t know if he would make it but I had to try.”

“We rode day and night to be able to arrive on time and, as fate would have it, some of our horses fell some miles from the Redfort.” Robar continued.

“When Ser Robar told us what was going on and what he needed, we asked to join him to talk to Ser Donnel. Since he and Jasper are close friends, we knew we could be of help.” Lord Redfort interjected.

“It turned out we didn’t need to come, as Donnel would have let you through anyway.” Robar smiled.

“Really?” Andar gasped. “Why?”

“Because your father is right.” Donnel answered, giving us both a mug of ale. “Jon Arryn had lied to us all and put the Vale in a precarious position.”

I let out a sigh of relief, happy to be believed. I hadn’t realized until then how much I feared rejection from my peers. Ser Donnel handed me some letters and I was glad he offered me a seat when I went through them. While the first letter left me with feelings of sadness and anger, I was literally enraged at the end of the second.

“This… Lady Lysa… Young Robert…”

“I know, my friend. They didn’t deserve to die like this.” Lord Horton said.

“And the Dornish? Stannis?”

“My kin gains nothing by lying, my Lord.” Donnel answered. “They rose for Jaehaerys Targaryen and captured Stannis.The Stormlands surrendered long before the Vale left to march against the North.”

“Maybe Lord Arryn didn’t know about it when he marched? He… I know he lied to us but to risk our lives by making us march without support…” Andar suggested.

The lack of answers spoke volumes to me. Of course he knew, or else he wouldn’t have made us rush against the Northern forces. A good commander would prevent the enemy from joining at all cost, as the Dragon did by making the Dornish attack the Stormlands. With Dorne, the Reach, The North, The West against us and the Stormlords out of the equation, we were doomed from the start.

With Stannis captured and the Riverlands in political disarray, Jaehaerys Targaryen’s victory was almost assured, unless Jon Arryn managed to defeat the North and capture the boy’s family. It would be a huge blow for him as Stannis’ capture was to Robert. Knowing the King, he might have run head first to face Rhaegar’s son, thinking he had the upper hand with the Golden Company, so Jon had used the Vale as a pawn instead of thinking of the best way to do damage control.

“What do we do now?” I asked, defeated.

“We will talk to your men.” Horton said. “We will tell them that you saved their lives and their honor by defying a liar and a tyrant who has no respect for his men’s lives. And we pray for the rest of the Vale. But now… Now you rest. Because, no offense, my friend, but you look like shit.”

For the first time in weeks, I laughed heartily.

True to their word, my new entourage spread the word about Jon Arryn’s lies and the fall of the Stormlands. Although my men seemed more appeased, I still felt anxiousness in our ranks. We were justified in our actions but we still had to wait for the war to end to be sure that we would keep our heads. I sent a part of my men away, escorted by some of the Redfort’s men to be certain they wouldn’t get trouble on the way home. Robar and Andar stayed with me, stating that they preferred being close as they feared any movement from the Eyrie. I spent a lot of time with Horton, not really talking about our fate, but enjoying seeing our boys in the training yard. They were fine men, all of them, and I couldn’t help but feel proud of my sons and how they handled the situation. Andar was ready to rule Runestone should I not be able to do so, and Robar, who showed us how dedicated to his family he was really by riding to us in our time of need, would be loyal to his brother above all things. We walked to Ser Donnel who was training his squire, the lad correcting his posture as his mentor instructed him.

“Why aren’t you training too?” I ask the young Waynwood.

“I already did earlier this morning. I don’t want to overwork myself.” he answered, smiling.

“Ah, an early riser, I see. I was constantly training when I was your age, from dawn to dusk. I wanted to do my family proud and win a lot of tourneys to earn my knighthood. Then I had children and my goals changed.”

“I always wanted to be a knight. But this war made me see things in another perspective. Ser Brynden taught me to be devoted to the causes I believed in, and my mother said I have my father’s heart. Never had I thought it would clash with everything else. I feel like my life has been torn apart completely.” Donnel said sadly.

“You and me both, Ser. You and me both…”

“Did you… Did you know my father well, my Lord?”

“I’m afraid we weren’t close.” I admitted regretfully. “Even during the Rebellion, he kept his distance from everybody.”

“Mother said that he did his duty but he was wary of Lord Arryn. Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Don’t worry, lad. I swear I won’t say anything.”

“Well… Do you remember if Lord Stark or Lord Arryn had ever talked about having a parlay with Prince Rhaegar?”

I paused to think about his question. I was one of the members of the war council since my nephew had been killed by the Mad King and I needed justice to be served. I also remembered the Battle of the Trident and the fall of Prince Rhaegar. 

“Now that you mention it… I remember a big fight between Lord Arryn and Robert on the eve of the Battle. Robert wanted to go to Rhaegar and kill him and Jon said he would have his chance during the battle. That they shouldn’t give Rhaegar a chance of possibly coaxing any of our forces.”

“So Rhaegar reached out for a parlay and Lord Arryn and King Robert refused?”

“I never heard of a parlay nor even a tentative one. I found it strange at the time, but then it was war and I only thought about my nephew and his father. Why do you ask?”

“My… I think they knew that Prince Rhaegar and the Lady Lyanna were married at the time.”

I frowned, noticing his slip, but didn’t mention it. He might have his reasons for not fully divulging his thoughts, so I focused on what he was saying. If they knew about Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, then it would explain why Ned Stark was so enraged during their parlay.

“Had Rheagar talked to Lord Stark, Jon would have been doomed. It would make sense that Arryn manipulated things and riled us all up so that we wouldn’t even think of trusting anything Rhaegar would have said.” I admitted through gritted teeth. “He’s been playing us for fools for years.”

“The Knights of the Vale are just a means to an end for him. My Father died for his desire for power. My brother is now fighting for him so he can keep that power. If he wins, which I hope won’t happen, I will do everything I can to see him fall, my Lord. Will you stand with me?”

“You’re talking about betraying your liege, Ser Donnel. It’s one thing to disagree, but -”

“We’ve already betrayed him, my Lord, but he was the one betraying the Vale first. _I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table, and pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor._ You know those words, my Lord. You live by them.”

“I forced my men to stop helping their kin, their brothers in arms. I brought them dishonor too.”

“He forced you in this position because he dishonored his vows first. And if he wins, you will be the one to be punished. His crimes against us can’t go unpunished. My little brother never knew his father. How many sons and daughters won’t know theirs because of him?”

“You mother raised the heir to the Vale…”

“Mother will join our ranks if we stand together. I’m certain of that. And Harry is not the heir we deserve either. He’s arrogant, uncaring, entitled and doesn’t listen to any advice. Moreover, you know better than anyone that his knighthood was not earned at all.”

“I was the one who knighted him,” I retorted, affronted.

“Who paid for the squires tourney? Who made the invitations? Where were the squires from the Vale? Sandor would have beaten Harry with his eyes closed, and Harry his my kin.”

He stared at me with knowing eyes and I wondered how he knew so much, being almost isolated at the Bloody gate. Was his mother exchanging information with him? He seemed so certain of her position it could be possible. Was he pushing for someone from his House to be Lord Paramount? His mother was an exceptional woman but the other Lords would be outraged at having to follow a woman. Not that I cared personally, but it would plunge the Vale into months, years of chaos we didn’t need.

“You got me there. Very well, if not Harrold, who would have you as Lord of the Vale?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

He turned to me and let a small smile. “You, Lord Yohn. I see no one better than you to rule the Vale.”

“Me?” I repeated, gasping with surprise.

“You are respected and I would gladly follow your lead.”

“I was respected. Nothing is to say I will be at the end of this war.”

“When all will be said and done, you’re one member from one of the great Houses who didn’t fight the Dragon, for honorable reasons. People will have no choice but to follow you, unless Jaehaerys Targaryen finds someone more trustworthy to put in your place, and I know none.”

“What if we win?”

“Then we will call for a Great Council of Valemen and I’ll do my best to convince everyone. Either way the reign of Jon Arryn will be over and I will need you to protect us as you protected your men. I know you’re reluctant, you do not seek power and you do not want to be Lord Paramount.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“And that’s exactly why you should be. Because you will put the interest of our people first before yours.”

“For a young man who wanted to be a knight, you sure have an acute political mind.” I begrudged.

“What can I say? I may have my father’s heart, but I’m also my mother’s son!” he shrugged, making me chuckle.

We saw a raven flying over us but paid it no mind until a few days later, when I got awakened by my frantic son.

“Father! Come quick! Something is happening outside!”

“What? What is going on?”

“There are men coming from the Gates of the Moon and Donnel ordered me to get you to safety!”

I jumped out of bed and quickly dressed to join everyone outside. I saw my cousin Nestor, fully dressed in his armor as if he was heading to war, visibly arguing with the acting Knight of the Gate.

“What is the meaning of this?” I yelled, getting everyone’s attention.

Nestor’s murderous gaze fell on me. He dismounted and tried to walk toward me when Ser Donnel and another member of his garrison stopped his avance. 

“So it is true! You deserted the front!” he screamed, his face red with fury.

“I did what I deemed honorable, Nestor, and I was right to do so.”

“How dare you say that? You disgraced our name by abandoning your post, by disobeying your Liege, and you have the gall to say it was honorable?” Nestor then turned to his guard. “Arrest this man immediately!”

“You cannot arrest him here, my Lord.” Donnel intervened. “He has been given guest rights and he is under my protection.”

I heard a gasp and realized that Lady Anya Waynwood, his mother, was accompanying Nestor’s retinue. Not wanting to get Donnel more in trouble than he already was, I stepped beside him and addressed my cousin.

“Did Jon Arryn send you to apprehend me? If not you have no power to do it by your own authority.”

“I am High Steward of the Vale. I rule the Vale in Lord Arryn’s name.”

“And I will wait for Lord Arryn and Lord Arryn only to judge me. I swear on my honor that I will not leave the Bloody Gate until he comes back and then I will face his judgement.”

“You still talk about honor after what you did?” Nestor huffed. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because Lord Yohn has more honor than you or any of Lord Arryn’s followers!” Donnel yelled, to his mother’s horror.

“You overstep your duties, Ser.” Nestor said disdainfully. “You are to guard the Gate and nothing more. I suggest you keep quiet if you do not want to be arrested with the traitor.”

“Good Ser, please, let us speak of the matter with calmer heads and in private. We don’t want to make a spectacle.” Anya intervened.

“Of course you would say that!” Nestor scoffed. “A soft woman who can’t even raise her son to respect his elders.”

“You do not get to talk about how my Mother raised us!”

“I’ve had enough of this. Guards, take him too, and arrest anyone who tries to stop us from doing our duty.”

At these words, his men unsheathed their swords and began to walk toward us. Ser Donnel did the same and place himself in front of me, as I had agreed to leave my arms in safety to enjoy the protection of the Bloody Gate. I cursed loudly as I found myself defenseless and looked helplessly and they closed down on us.

“Enough! All of you! Stop right this instant!” Lady Anya shouted. “Since you’re so intent to seek justice for Lord Arryn, I would ask for a fair trial for my son and Lord Yohn, right here, right now.”

“A trial? My Lady, they’re both guilty of treason!”

“According to whom? Lord Arryn? Yourself? I agree with Lady Anya. I want a fair trial to prove I had reasons to leave when I did. Or are you going to borrow a page in your Liege’s book and kill me like he did his wife?”

I expected the outcry I received. Apparently, no one had received word of Lady Lysa and little Robert’s death, but judging by Anya’s face and her nod to me, it looked like I was right about my assumption that mother and son had talked about the matter. I saw his squire running to the barracks while Nestor had trouble to silence the crowd.

“I suppose you don’t know about the passing of Lady Lysa and her son?” I continued.

“I don’t know why it should concern us. She is a disgraced lady and her son is a bastard.”

“I won’t fault you for your lack of care, cousin. You’ve never been one to care much about anything but yourself. But here not only their deaths are shameful, but the causes are even more dishonorable!”

“Is this your strategy of defense? To put all the blame of you deserting on an adulterer’s death?”

“Here! Ser! I have them!” Donnel’s squire rushed to his mentor, panting, with the letters he’d already shown us.

“My Lords, good Sers, allow me to read you some evidence to prove that everything we knew so far had been manipulated by Lord Arryn. That is why, when Lord Yohn figured out how he had been lied to and how the Vale had been made a pawn of Lord Arryn’s games, he tried to salvage his honor and his men’s lives.” Donnel declared before opening the first letter.

_To Ser Donnel, Greetings!_

_I must admit that I was quite surprised to receive your raven but at the same time, glad of it. You write your words well but I am more than capable of reading between the lines. You wish to know what has happened here in Kings Landing and beyond. If I am right then know that the words you read on this paper hold no lies and that everything I am about to tell is the complete truth with evidence that you would be able to see and hear for yourself if you were to visit the city. Every man, woman, and child who lives here will tell you the exact same story that I will tell you. And to make sure that you are able to understand the full scope of the situation, I have asked an acquaintance of mine to have this letter hand delivered to you since the words I wish to write would not be able to fit on a small raven scroll._

_As you know, the crown has been doing business with Magister Illyrio for sometime now. Well that man had recently returned from a trip to Pentos and the first thing he did was tell Robert and Jon Arryn that he had found evidence that Cersei’s children were not legitimate and that she was spending her nights with one of his Kingsguard. The evidence in question was apparently some notes written by the former Master of Whispers Varys. Hardly the best evidence to be used in a trial let alone ones that would be accepted as truth by the Lannisters. So the next morning, Robert left the city with Joffrey telling the queen that he was taking to boy hunting. When in actuality he had proceeded to tie and gag the boy and gave his men orders to throw his former son into the Black Cells. After that was done, he snuck back into the keep and barged into the Queen’s quarters where he found her in bed with Ser Justin Massey._

_What happened next has made me and many others feel very sickened so I would advise you not to read this with a full stomach._

_The first thing that Robert did was beat the Queen for hours all the while demanding to know who had fathered her children. When some of the Lannister guards tried to protect her, Robert ordered that they be killed along with anyone else who wore red and yellow. Thus began a great massacre of guards, servants, handmaidens and anyone else whose only crime was to be in service to House Lannister. Almost 100 men and women were executed and their heads now sit on spikes along Traitors Walk. Those poor souls were given a quick death while others like Cersei, Joffrey and Ser Justin were more than likely wishing for death before they died._

_The things that were done to them not only goes against the laws of decency but also the Mother since any crime against a child whether the boy is a bastard or not is an absolute crime in her eyes._

_After Robert brought Cersei into one of the cells, he beat her some more before he got bored of it and decided that she needed to see her son. So he brought the boy in and proceeded to beat him to death right in front of her. We could hear their cries while he tortured him and his body… There were no trials, no judgement for Cersei’s crime. She didn’t get the chance to defend herself. Worse, they left Joffrey’s body which had been completely disfigured, burned at some parts, in the cell with his mother until they came for her to be executed. I am ashamed to say that his body is still there. Nobody is allowed to approach it and give him a proper burial._

_Cersei, before losing her head, claimed to all those present that Robert had killed Joffrey and was a Dragonspawn. I have heard people in the Red Keep talking about the Mad King Reborn. Never to Robert’s face, of course, but I understand the feeling._

_It should be noted that not once did Cersei ever confess that the children were not the king’s, even after being beaten so many times to the point of being almost unrecognizable during her execution._

_We were all relieved to hear that Myrcella had escaped with one of the Kingsguard, Ser Richard, while another one, Ser Arys, lost his life protecting her._

_A few days after these horrible events, The Hand of the King heard a rumor of an affair between Lady Lysa and the Master of the Coin. While he didn’t beat his wife as King Robert did, he threw both his wife and her supposed bastard son in two separate cells and planned to leave them there until the end of the war. He couldn’t prosecute nor kill her, because he needed the Riverlands to fight for him so he left them to rot with almost no food or water. Lady Lysa cried and begged for five days days and five nights to have her son next to her, to no avail. She wanted to warn her brother, to make him raise his banner against Lord Arryn, but she was allowed no correspondence. She bit her tongue so hard that she bled to death. The poor boy didn’t even have the strength to cry. He held on until three days after his mother's death. Lord Renly treated them a little better than the others, but he couldn’t go against the Hand’s wishes._

_This is it. I hope you got all the information you needed and that word will travel about what went on during Robert’s Rage. As for myself, I will never forget what happened here, Ser. As soon as the war is over I will go back to my family. I have faced a lot of challenges over the course of my life, I went to battle more than once, lost my hand too, but I have never seen such horrendous things happening in one place and in such a short amount of time. This is too much, and I am not the only one in the Golden Cloaks wanting to leave._

_I wish you good fortune for the future._

_Sincerely,_

_Ser Jacelyn Bywater_

_Captain of the City Watch_

_Mud Gate_

The looks on the faces of the men as Donnel had read the letter had started with various degrees of shock. As he got closer to the end, those looks quickly changed into horror, anger and a few men even looked like they were going to be sick. When I looked over to Nestor’s men I could see that they were feeling very conflicted and a few of them seemed ashamed as well. That’s when I realized that some of these men from the Eyrie must have been in Kings Landing when the massacre happened. They may have even participated on Lord Jon’s orders.

If the situation wasn’t so tense then I would find it ironic that Nestor came down to the Gate to defend his liege’s honor, only to bring witnesses to Jon Arryn’s dishonor.

“I will not stand by and let people slander the character of my liege!” Nestor finally hammered. “He was within his right to imprison Lady Lysa until the trial was done.”

“Why didn’t he try her before they left? He was also within his rights to do so, since Robert took his wife’s head just days after he threw her in the cells.”

“Well, Littlefinger was also involved and he had fled so he couldn’t prosecute both of them.” Netor answered matter-of-factly.

“But what about the child? What about Robyn?”

“He was a bastard.”

“He was a child, for the Gods’ sake!”

The murmurs of the crowd mostly agreed with me and the tension grew thicker.

“You can’t judge Jon Arryn for what happened after he left.” Nestor started. “If the guards didn’t care for them as they should, he is not responsible.”

“You’re right, but he’s responsible for leading our troops with false information.” I retorted.

“What false information?”

I nodded to ser Donnel and he took out his other letter. Nestor and his retinue tensed as the young knight read it out loud.

_Donnel,_

_I was very surprised to not only receive your letter but to also to read that you do not know what has happened here._

_For starters, let me be very clear, the Stormlands have stood down and will not be able to reinforce either Lord Arryn or King Robert. The reason why is because several weeks ago while Lord Stannis was gathering his army at Storm's End, the Dornish army led by the Red Viper himself arrived near the keep flying_ **_Targaryen colors_ ** _._

_Many men were lost during the battle and my son Sebastion would not have survived if he hadn’t taken a blow to the head courtesy of one of the Dornish spears. Thankfully my maester says that he will recover just fine, but what I found to be the most disturbing thing about this battle is that it was not just Dorne we were fighting, there were also several Stormlords that had turned their cloak and sided with the dragon. Massey, Dondarrion, Selmy, and Horpe were the only houses that my men had seen for themselves while they were prisoners but there might have been more._

_After the battle was over Prince Oberyn told all of the survivors that if they went home and stayed out of the war then on his word of honor, Dorne will not lay siege to any of our homes. Every Stormlord has accepted his offer and that is why we will not be joining the war._

_But what I do not understand is why have you not heard of what has happened here? I sent word of the battle and the Dornish forces while I was still inside Storms End to King's Landing the very moment the battle was over. And I had received a response assuring me that Lord Arryn would be informed once he reached the Vale._

_Cousin, you must send word to your liege and inform him of what has happened. The Vale is marching without any reinforcements. If they face the enemy in open battle then there is no guarantee that victory will be at hand. HURRY!_

_May the Seven protect you all,_

_Shyra Errol_

_Lady of Haystack Hall_

  
The reaction to this letter was the straw that broke the horse’s back. The men were absolutely outraged to hear that their brethren had been tricked into marching without support. The looks on their faces now consisted of horror, anger and most of all, betrayal. But despite all of the yells and shouts of anger, Nestor was determined to make his voice heard.

“LIES!! THOSE ARE FALSE LETTERS! HE’S SPEAKING NOTHING BUT LIES ABOUT OUR GOOD AND HONORABLE LORD!!” Nestor shouted with a face of absolute fury.

“No Nestor, he’s not!” Lady Anya spoke up, shocking everyone in the yard and causing the men to each quite down and turn their heads to stare at her. While Nestor on the other hand looked like his face was just getting redder and redder by the second.

“What do you mean he’s not lying??!! How can you say that!?”

“I say that because my son is not the only one who has sent letters to different parts of the realm. You forget Nestor, that I have friends all over the Seven Kingdoms. I have friends who live in the Crownlands, kin in the Stormlands and acquaintances in Dorne. I sent ravens to each and every one of them and they all confirmed exactly what Donnel has just told you and more. Robert murdered innocents without a trial, gave the Ironborn permission to reave along the coast, and is offering the Golden Company Westerosi lands of their choosing as payment for their services. Lord Arryn did lock Lady Lysa and her son up separately in the Black Cells without a trial and they both died a few days after he left for the war. But most importantly, Lady Yara herself confirmed to me several days ago that our liege had received a raven from King's Landing right before he left Runestone that had upset him greatly. Lomas, the Master of Whispers is married to a friend of mine and she was able to confirm to me in her own letter that her husband had indeed sent a raven to Runestone to inform Lord Arryn of Stannis’ defeat and that it would’ve arrived at around that time.”

The Lady’s words spoke volumes to every man in the yard. Some were probably wondering if other ladies of the Vale had done the same thing. Sending letters to friends and family around the realm in the hope that they could receive some news of the war. Only to find out to their horror that their husbands, brothers and sons were marching into an unwinnable war. 

Ser Donnel was right, even if Lord Arryn did manage to win and return to the Vale, he would be facing far more push back from the people than he would have ever expected and not just 3 disobedient houses. Word will spread of his lies and no one, not even his most staunch supporters will be able to defend his character for very long.

But it seemed that Lady Anya wasn’t finished because she pulled out what looked like a raven scroll and said, “Lomas wanted to be doubly certain that Lord Arryn would receive news of the Stormlands before he marched off to war so he sent two ravens. One to Runestone, and the other to the Eyrie. This one arrived just after he had left for the Bloody Gate so the maester was not able to give it to him. I kept the scroll on his desk and didn’t think much of it until I had talked to Lady Yara and had received word from Kings Landing about the first raven to Runestone.”

She then handed the scroll to Nestor and said, “Here, read it for yourself. You can see that I haven’t opened it. If the contents are not about Stannis’ defeat then that proves that my information is false. But if the letter does speak of Stannis, then this proves that our liege lied right to our faces.”

Nestor grabbed it forcefully and began to read it. Someone asked for him to read it out loud, but I thought he was so shocked that he could not do it. The more he read and the whiter his face got. The disbelief was etched all over him and he let the missive fall to the floor.

“Lord Arryn lied to the Riverlands, by saying nothing to Lord Edmure about what he’d done to his sister because he needed the Riverlands to fight against Prince Jaehaerys, knowing Edmure hated the lad, so much that he tried to kill him twice according to the songs. He lied to us because he knew we wouldn’t support his actions because he needed us to fight against someone who he claimed had no honor. He then lied again to make us look strong when we were already losing. Do you need more proof of our liege’s duplicity, cousin? Or are you ready to sentence me to die and make him hated even more by the people I tried to protect?”

Nestor looked at me, visibly at a loss for words, and I could see panic in his eyes. Lady Anya touched his shoulder gently and gave him an encouraging smile.

“That’s why I think we should wait for Lord Arryn to come back to form an idea. He has much to answer to the people of the Vale.” she said softly. “We’re going to lose a lot of our forces during this war Nestor. My son Morton is fighting, so is your son Albar. Some of your close friends are too. If we lose, our lands will be at the mercy of the Dragon.”

“And if we win?”

“Ser! There’s a group of men at the gates! They’re flying a flag of truce!”

Ser Donnel started running to the bridge and the rest of us followed after him. Even Nestor joined in since like us we were all eager for news of the war. When we got to the top and were able to look down, the sight before was one I never thought to see. Down below we could a small group of 6 men, 2 Lannister men, 2 Northern men, and 2 Rivermen. But what really shocked me were the sigils that some of these men were wearing. The Bolton and Umber sigils alone would have given me pause since I never imagined that I would ever see Northmen and Westerns riding together. But seeing a Bracken and a Blackwood riding side by side nearly caused my heart to stop. When I turned to look at the others to see if they had noticed, I should not have been surprised to see the exact same reaction on their faces. Mouths open and eyes so wide one would think that our eyes would quite literally pop right out.

Ser Donnel was thankfully able to compose his surprise enough to do his duty to the Gate.

“Who would pass the Bloody Gate?” He called out.

One of the Western men moved his horse to the front and responded. “We seek no passage Ser! My comrades and I are only messengers, we only seek to give you our message and then return to our men.”

“What is your message then?”

The man then pulled out a scroll and began to read from it.

_“I Prince Tyrion of House Targaryen, hereby inform you that the Second Battle of the Trident is over. The Knights of the Vale have surrendered unconditionally and Lord Jon Arryn of the Eyrie has been taken into our custody. Approximately 2,000 men were killed and another 2,000 or more were injured. Lowborn men at arms with wounds that are not severe enough to prevent them from traveling will be escorted to the Bloody Gate along with every squire under the age of 4 and 10. The rest of the army will be marshaled until His Grace King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen takes his rightful place on his family's throne in King’s Landing and the Great Houses of the Vale bend the knee to Him. This show of faith toward your men is made under the explicit condition that the rest of the forces stationed in the Vale will not take arms against us._

_I am also informing you of Robert Baratheon’s death. He had agreed to single combat against His Grace in order to allow the Gods to choose who had the right of things. Robert was mortally wounded but instead of taking his head himself, His Grace asked his Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne to do it in his name._

_Unfortunately, the Golden Company refused to live up to the terms of the agreement and revealed that they had come to our shores in support of another king, A Blackfyre._

_King Jaehaerys answered them with Fire and Blood and the Golden Company is no more. Those who survived are to take the black and the Night's Watch is to be better manned than ever before._

_Lord Eddard Stark still believes that they are honorable men in the Vale. That those who didn’t fight will not raise arms to protect someone who tried to kill him after surrendering. I look forward to seeing how right he is.”_  
  


Hearing those words had rocked me to my core and I’m sure that all those with me were just as shocked as I was. The Vale had lost, more than 2,000 were men dead, Robert dead, and the Golden Company defeated to extinction. Most shockingly of all was hearing the name Arthur Dayne. The Sword of the Morning is alive and is guarding the Kings back. He was there at the Tower of Joy and can attest to Jaehaerys legitimacy. But I still had so many questions.

Who was Prince Tyrion? He couldn’t possibly be the same Tyrion Lannister, the Imp of Casterly Rock?

How was the Vale defeated and forced to surrender with only a few thousand losses?

Who was this Blackfyre? I thought that Ser Barristan had killed the last one.

How was the Golden Company defeated?

And most importantly, what did they mean by “ _That those who didn’t fight will not raise arms to protect someone who tried to kill him after surrendering.”?_ Did Lord Jon try to kill Lord Stark?

Those around me voiced the same concerns and questions while Ser Donnel, always efficient, went to gather some men to escort the wounded back to the Gates. Ser Jasper and Andar volunteered to leave with the others, as did Nestor.

“Do you want to go too, my Lord”? Donnel asked me.

“I would like to, but I will be more useful here. We need to call for all the healers and the Maesters we can to care for the wounded.”

“I will send for Maester Colemon right away” Anya interjected.

“How is your food reserve?” 

“I’ve asked the Redforts for more grains and Ser Andar already sent word to Runestone to give us back some of the reserve we used for your men.” Donnel answered.

“Good. You’ve both done well. I’ll ask for a little more, everyone should contribute and we also need plants and healing supplies. Let us get to work.”

“See? He’s already acting like the Lord Protector!” I heard Donnel say when he walked away with his mother.

“You, son, are going to be the death of me!” Anya retorted. “What in the Seven Hells possessed you to face Lord Nestor like this?”

I shook my head and stopped listening to their argument. I had too much family drama for the end of my life.

I didn’t see much of Nestor after that. He came back with the wounded two days later, his face ashen and his demeanor radiating with defeat, then he left soon after. His daughter Myranda traveled with the Maester of the Gates of the Moon and helped the healers as best as she could. 

The stories that the wounded and squires told of the battle and what had happened after filled us all with a sense of dread and explained why Nestor was distancing himself.

Dragons. The Dragons were back and the one that they had faced actually breathed fire. That knowledge alone answered several of my questions. It certainly explains why the Northern lords seemed so cocky and confident that they would win. They had an actual dragon as an ally the entire time. According to one of the enemy escorts, apparently the only reason why we had so few losses compared to a field of fire is because King Jaehaerys did not wish to kill too many people. It made sense to have the dragon act as the hammer and the army as the anvil to minimize the loss of life. A sound but terrifying strategy that worked perfectly. Prince Tyrion could have easily decimated our forces but chose not to in favor of just preventing retreat and breaking our will to fight.

Ser Lyn Corbray and Lord Melcolm were counted in the list of the losses, and fortunately for our new Waynwood friends, Ser Morton was alive and well. I was surprised to hear Myranda ask shyly about Ser Domeric’s state, since he was in the adverse camp, but I supposed I shouldn’t care.

The most important question that everyone had on their mind was answered by a man at arms who just happened to be nearby when Lord Arryn and several other lords had surrendered. He told us that he saw with his own eyes our liege take out a hidden knife and try to run it through Lord Stark. Luckily, Ned’s direwolf was there and she was much quicker than Jon was and he lost his hand for his trouble.

This was the final straw, proving that Jon Arryn wasn’t a true Knight of the Vale and I was glad he didn’t succeed. We knew the North would only see the culprits punished, but I didn’t trust the Dragons to do the same. I would have to look closely on the future King of Westeros, to see if he had at least a shred of madness coming from his paternal side, because I don’t think he use the same technique as Prince Tyrion if what we heard about the Golden Company being decimated came from his huge of his Dragon.

That was still the least of our troubles. There was the question of the men who are now prisoners. Would we get them back or would they be given choices to lose their heads or to go to the Wall? Judging by what had happened to the Stormlands, almost all of the heirs and some Lords went back to their keeps, with the exception of Stannis. I guessed and hoped that the same deal would be given to us.

There will still be strong defenders of Lord Arryn, his heir will be a pain in the butt, but I had hope that with Lady Waynwood, Lord Grafton, Lord Redfort, Ser Donnel, myself and more willing to join our ranks, we will be able to unite the Vale as it should always be. A land of honorable men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you are all enjoying this story so far. There is much more to come so keep an eye out for us every Saturday morning for a new adventure.  
> In the mean time, please feel free to hit that kudos button and leave a comment below to let Leilani972 and I know what you think of everything so far.


	3. Pride and Arrogance Comes Before the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vale has been defeated. These prideful knights have seen dragon fire used in battle for the first time in 100 years. And what’s worse is that their honorable liege lord has been exposed to be anything but honorable. One knight in particular has lost a brother to this battle and is feeling pain and regret over this lose.
> 
> What will Lord Lyonel Corbay and his fellow knights do now that the war is over for them and how will they overcome their wounded pride.

**The Trident, 298 A.C**

**The Night of the Vale’s Defeat**

**Lord Lyonel Corbray, Lord of Heart’s Home**

_Defeat_ was not a word Lyonel ever imagined could ever be associated with the Knights of the Vale. Especially when the enemy he and his men had faced were savage northern heathens. The humiliation of being a northern prisoner was almost too much to bear. Add in the fact that with his brother Lyn dead, Lady Forlorn was now being held by Ned Stark himself.

The thought of Lyn being dead filled the older brother with mixed emotions. On one hand, Lady Forlorn should have never been given to him in the first place. Cocky idiot had only beaten the Dornish Knight because the poor man had already been mortally wounded during the battle. It was no true victory and his Father should have realized that. But on the other hand, he was still his brother. That he was defeated by the Warden of the North was a meagre consolation. Lyonel knew what had happened to Dawn when Ned Stark defeated Ser Arthur Dayne, so he had almost no doubt that Lady Forlorn would go back to his family. The doubt was more about himself. Would he be able to go home or would he, as a former staunch supporter of Jon Arryn, be executed at King's Landing? Would he have the choice to go to the Wall?

His thoughts turned to his House’s future. Since Lyonel had no child and Lyn was now dead, his little brother Lucas was then the heir of Heart’s Home. The latter was in no shape and form fit to rule their House. He didn’t take his lessons seriously and spent his time riding across the Seven Kingdoms to partake in small tourneys, because as the spare of the heir he had ‘all the time in the world’.

Lyonel was so close, so very close to ensuring the safety of his legacy when the war started. He was negotiating a wedding to a fine girl, the daughter of a rich merchant who would ensure them a big dowry should they reach an agreement, and even more money if she didn’t give him a child in the first year of their marriage. All of his actions were for naught, because he was stuck in a Northern camp, as a prisoner.

He could hear music from afar. The victors were celebrating loudly, as the brutes they were. He was surprised to see the Western Lords and those from the Riverlands being almost as loud as the Northern ones, but he supposed that having a Prince with Lannister blood and an actual dragon would make them boisterous and cocky. After all, they wouldn’t have one if not for the Imp.

That the Mad King had a bastard with Joanna Lannister was shocking but not surprising. That this said bastard was parading and calling himself a Prince was another thing. Then again, having a living dragon tended to instill respect, if not fear from your betters.

Lyonel wondered if the other bastard they were naming king had also a dragon. Nothing would surprise him anymore.

Two Northern soldiers came near him, talking loudly and laughing before putting a bowl of food in front of him. He looked at the nasty broth and turned his nose in disgust.

“What is this?”

“Why my Lord, this is your food for tonight! Oh, and since you are one of our more privileged guests, here’s some bread and some ale for you!”

“You cannot be serious? That’s our meal? Some… grossly cooked bean soup with black bread?”

“Look, my Lord. We have to feed you lot for the Gods know how long. If you’re not happy with what you get, I’m sure some of your men will be happy to have your share.” the northern soldier spat.

“Stop complaining. Lyonel. At least they gave us something.” Morton Waynwood, ever the lecturer, said.

“We brought with us grain, meat and bread,” Lyonel whined.

“And the North thanks you for your participation in the war effort! Now enjoy your meal, it won’t be that good every day!” the soldier cackled.

As he forced himself to swallow the mixture he couldn’t even name a broth, Lyonel cursed the savages who mocked him without a care for his status.

He cursed the Dragons. Especially the fire-breathing one.

But most of all, he cursed Jon Arryn for making them come to this Gods awful place.

He scoffed as he looked at the tent where his liege lord was kept under strict guard. He didn’t know what possessed Lord Arryn to try to kill someone who had a direwolf close to him after surrendering. It was stupid and dishonorable. Killing Ned Stark would have accomplished nothing strategically, except riling up his men and putting them on a killing spree.

“What are you scoffing at?” Morton asked. “The broth is not to your taste?”

“I was just thinking about the foolishness of Jon Arryn.”

“He got what he deserved in the end.” Morton sighed.

“How can you say that? He was maimed by a beast!” Ser Vardis butted in.

“He was lucky the wolf didn’t take the arm with it.” Lyonel retorted. 

“He is still your liege, my Lord. You owe him some respect.”

“I owe no respect for fools, Ser, and this move was the most foolish he could have done.”

“I disagree. The most foolish move had been to make us fight with a dragon breathing fire over us.” Morton said and he couldn’t agree more.

They had lost good men during this fight, almost a fifth of their troops, and half of them to Dragonfire. They knew they had no chance of winning after they’d seen the enormous beast flying over their head, but they were too stunned to surrender before the damage was done. He, at least, would have done so. Maybe his brother would still be alive and they wouldn’t be stuck there.

_Who am I kidding? Of course we would still be here! But we would have been treated with more respect…_

With dragons against the rest of their forces, the Stormlands and the Golden Company would soon fall against their enemies, and the Vale would be the laughing stock of history for years and years to come. The only thing that would be remembered would be Jon Arryn’s desperate act after his surrender.

_Fool._

“We should have followed Yohn when he told us so!” he then heard Ser Symond say harshly to a group of people. He recognized Lord Belmore and Lord Hunter and decided to join the conversation.

“You knew that Lord Royce was planning for desertion?”

“He told us that Lord Arryn had lied to us and he didn’t feel comfortable fighting for him.” Ser Symond explained. “At first we thought that it was because he didn’t want to fight Ned Stark, since they were friends, but now…”

“Yohn Royce is a traitor!” Ser Vardis said. “The only thing he managed to do is to show the Vale his true nature!”

“Well, his true nature kept him and his men safe.” Morton quipped.

“They are safe for now! But when we go back home, when we win the war…”

“Have you not seen the dragon that destroyed a part of our army?” Ser Symond yelled. “The war is over, Vardis! We lost!

“We would have lost even without the dragons, thanks to The Floppy Fish and those idiots from the Riverlands” Lyonel mumbled.

“The others in the Vale will not take well that their Lords are prisoners! Surely they’ll come and, with the Golden Company…”

“What could the Golden Company do against a dragon? Are you mad?”

“But…”

“Please make him shut up or else I’ll do it myself and it won’t be pretty!” Lyonel snapped, making Vardis gasp and effectively stop talking.

He couldn’t believe that, with all they had experienced that day, people could still hope to win this war. Vardis was not the only one who was deluded as he saw others nod to the knight’s frantic tirade. 

_Fools. All of them._

“Do you think it is as cold as they say, at the Wall?” he then wondered aloud.

“Why do you ask?” Morton replied.

“Well, obviously we lost the war, so we will be faced with the same choice they gave those who lost the last one. Death or life at the Wall.”

“You forget that there are those who got pardoned because they bent the knee, like the Tyrells.” 

“True, but I don’t think the Dragons will be so forgiving, not after Lord Arryn tried to do to Lord Stark.”

“People say that Jon Snow is a true knight. That he cares for people and actually helps the smallfolk.”

“But Jaehaerys Targaryen could be like his grandfather… Look at what he’d done to Edmure Tully during the tourney of King’s Landing.”

“He had the right to do so. Edmure had insulted his family.”

“Yes, and they hated each other. Where is Tully, now? Do you think Jon Arryn will get away with a slap on the wrist?”

“We are not Jon Arryn or Edmure Tully and I don’t think we would still be alive if Jaehaerys Targaryen was like the Mad King. Hells, even Robert Baratheon would have put us to the sword if it were him.”

Lyonel nodded, hoping for his sake that his companion was right.

The next day started out just as bad as Lyonel could have imagined. They had no tents or beds since their supplies had been confiscated. So they were forced to sleep on the ground with nothing but the clothes on their backs. 

They got something to break their fast, he couldn’t quite recognize the slop they had been given but he welcomed it all the same. The hunger he felt was enough to make him want to eat almost anything.

They didn’t do much during the day, which was a little depressing. Some of the Northern men, Umber and Karstarks for the most part, kept taunting them by singing songs about their defeat and mocking them as they had been defeated by ‘savages and heathens’. It infuriated most of the Knights of Vale, including him, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ser Vardis tried to order them to call for a superior, which resulted in him being ridiculed once more. 

He saw Ned Stark and his Lords walking towards the part of the camp where the wounded were tended to, then some soldiers came to ask for all their squires under the age of four and ten to gather up. Fear surged as he looked helplessly as the young ones were led outside the camp.

“What will you do with them?” he asked.

“Prince Tyrion and Lord Eddard want us to send them back to the Vale. ‘Tis no place for children. And unlike your “dear” King Robert or your “honorable” Liege Lord, we don’t kill children.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, feeling very confused, “Lord Arryn has never killed a child.”

The two guards then looked at each other with bewildered looks on the faces. They turned to look at us again and said, “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what? What are you savages talking about?” He asked, feeling the confusion quickly turning into annoyance.

“Ha! He calls us savages. That’s really funny coming from you when your Liege Lord is responsible for the deaths of Lady Lysa and her son Robyn.” the guard scoffed with anger in his eyes.

Several gasps could be heard around Lyonel and he was certain he’d also let one out.

“They… They’re dead?” he stammered, still in shock.

“They’ve been dead for a long time.”

“H-How?” Morton asked weakly.

“People can say what they want about Robert, but he made it at least somewhat quick for his wife and her son. Your liege had his wife and her son starved to death in the Black Cells. Lady Lysa killed herself by biting her tongue. Her son didn't last long after that.”

“Impossible!”

“You lie!”

“He would never!”

“Like he would never try to stab another after his surrender? You Southerners think you’re too good and you know better than anyone. Look at you, now, still defending a murderer!”

“We didn’t know… He told us…”

“Actions speak louder than words. That’s why you’ve lost the war. Because you chose to listen rather than see what was around you.”

Lyonel couldn’t answer. He was appalled to learn of Lady Lysa’s and Robyn’s fate and ashamed to be chastised by lesser men. He was also sad to admit that they were right. Not once had they contested Lord Arryn’s words since he came to the Vale, not even after learning about Robert’s rage. They’d all listened to his explanations and found his excuses acceptable. They didn’t even ask him what he had done with his wife, nor did they judge the King’s actions. The Northern song suddenly made sense to him.

_‘The falcon who thought himself a king_

_Flew proudly and showed off his wing_

_Its shadow spreading all over the land_

_He thought himself the one in command_

_He believed he had fooled them all_

_The Wolves, The Stags, the Big, the Small_

_For years He hid behind honor_

_As he flew High, like his House words_

_He used those words as an armor_

_To hide his dark true color_

_Until a Dragon hidden in the West_

_Tickled his wings under a bastard vest_

_When the Dragon rose and flew_

_Covering all the Falcon knew_

_the Falcon rages, and his armor shatters_

_And all his flock could see his dark feathers_

_He left his Fish wife without water_

_Let her and her son die in the fresh air_

_He challenged the Dragon, abandoned his King_

_Tried to kill the Wolf and lost one of his wings_

_Now this falcon who thought himself a king_

_Looks so pitiful without his so great wing_

_Yes this falcon who thought himself a king_

_Looks so pitiful without his so great wing’_

To think that a green boy stood up and demanded justice for those Lyonel should have defended, while he’d dismissed the facts and thought them lies, shamed the knight greatly. As he watched the young squires and the lightly wounded leave that day, he thought to himself that the future king couldn’t be worse than the one they had.

His shame grew as he learned from others what Jaehaerys had done to end the war. He’d known from Lord Arryn’s cry that Robert had fallen, but he’d learned how that had happened from Lord Lefford, who’d come with some of the Western lords to talk with them.

“He defeated King Robert in single combat and mortally wounded him, but he didn’t end his life. He asked Ser Arthur to do it instead.”

“Ser Arthur is alive?”

“He is.”

“Why didn’t he kill him himself? Aren’t the Northerns all for swinging the Sword themselves?”

“Whether they liked it or not, Robert and King Jaehaerys were kin. Even if he wanted to kill him for killing his father, the curse of being a kinslayer prevented him from doing so.”

Lyonel didn’t know if these stories were told to make the boy look better than he was or to shame the Valemen even more. Maybe Morton was right and Jaehaerys Targaryen was a king at heart. Maybe the Gods saw fit to bless him with dragons to punish them for their folly and make them realize the truth. 

“What happened after the duel?” he asked.

“Well… King Jaehaerys asked the Golden Company to surrender, but then… they refused.”

“What?”

“Apparently, they had already planned the fall of Robert, because they said they were paid to support another king.”

“Another… Wait… Don’t tell me…”

“Yes, my friend. They brought a Blackfyre to Westeros. He actually pretended he was Aegon Targaryen.”

“But, Aegon is dead!” Symond gasped.

“Jon Connington was with him.”

“So it could be him?” Symond insisted.

“Jaeaherys doesn’t think so. He was extremely enraged that they would disrespect his brother’s memory.”

“Of course he would be, if Aegon is the real one, the boy has no claim to the throne,” Vardis muttered.

”Well this supposed Aegon had been given the same choice as Robert and he refused. Instead, he made his men attack Jaehaerys during the parlay.”

The Company had attacked during a parlay. They’d hidden someone pretending to be the son of Rhaegar in their ranks and had waited for Robert to die to press their claim. 

What else but treachery could they have expected from a band of mercenaries? Even if this boy was legitimate, what he did to his supposed brother was enough to put all of the Lords against him. 

“How did Jaehaerys react? Was he hurt?” Lyonel asked.

“Why do you care? Do you have a soft spot for the Dragons, now?” Vardis spat disdainfully.

“I just want to know what happened.” Lyonel sighed, wishing the Gods would give him the strength to endure the other knight’s presence.

“The king is safe, but we cannot say the same about the Golden Company. We heard that he had destroyed their camp in almost one passage with his dragon. And that the dragon had feasted on the burning elephants.”

“He killed them all?”

“No not all of them. Those who survived will go to the Wall.”

“And what about Aegon? Was he killed?”

“We don’t know much about him. Apparently he escaped but he won’t get far. The Lords of the Narrow Sea will surely hunt them down, as will the Dornish Lords.”

“Dorne truly rose for Jaehaerys?” Lyonel asked, still a little doubtful.

The Western Lords looked at each other and Lord Lefford shook his head and sighed in frustration.

“He really kept you all in the dark, didn’t he?”

“You mean Lord Arryn?”

“At first we thought you were just lying, as he did, but now… Dorne defeated the Stormlords and Prince Oberyn captured Stannis. We learned of it after we had crossed the Twins.”

“When was Stannis and his army defeated?!”

“Many weeks ago my friend. Long before your army had even left the Vale.”

“Maybe Lord Arryn didn’t know about this. To have us march to war knowing that we would not be receiving reinforcements would be unthinkable.”

“And yet when Lord Stark mentioned Dorne’s rise during the parlay, your Lord seemed very desperate to denounce them as lies. Does that sound like a man who knew nothing or a man who knew everything but wanted to keep the truth from his own men?”

“Why would he do that to us? Why would he deliberately lead us to a death trap?”

“Because he was desperate. Because the power he had made him lose touch with reality and blind to what surrounded him. I do not pretend that I have all of the answers, but I do know that the Seven kingdoms were evolving thanks to Jaehaerys Targaryen and Lord Arryn didn’t like it. Jon Arryn and the Vale stayed rooted in their beliefs that a bastard couldn’t accomplish much in life or shouldn’t try to reach too high. The North, the Reach, The West, and even Dorne prospered because they had been willing to trust a supposed bastard and he returned their trust in kind, making them benefit greatly. The Lord you followed was a monster hidden beneath armor that he claimed was made of honor and he used you in order to keep a grasp on the power he had. The end result was you and your men losing greatly. Jon Arryn is a lost cause, but if you want to survive in the new world King Jaehaerys is about to create, I suggest that you open your eyes and your minds. Stop looking for excuses or for reasons as to why it happened and be better than him.”

After he had finished speaking, Lord Lefford and the other lords turned around and left them to stew in their newfound shame. The silence from their shock was very deafening, at least until Morton decided that he could no longer be silent and thus began to vent his anger. “To think that we had been played for fools so thoroughly by our own liege lord! Lord Arryn may be a dishonorable fool, but we are the bigger fools for following him for so long without question!”

“Agreed! Thanks to him and our folly, the Knights of the Vale will be a laughing stock for years to come. We may never recover from this rightly deserved shame.” Symond said wearing the same look of shame and guilt that the rest of us were wearing ourselves.

“I wouldn’t count us out just yet Symond. If Lord Lefford is right, then our only hope for the Vale to recover and prosper is that we change things very quickly. Change how we think. Change how we fight. Change how we view other people. But most importantly, we need to change how we view ourselves. It won’t be easy I know, but if we work at it, then the Vale will be a place of honorable men again for our children and our children’s children.” Morton spoke with such surety that some of the others had started to feel a sense of hope for the future. It was a small flame of course but maybe, just maybe it could actually grow. But how would that happen?

So Lyonel asked the question that everyone was thinking to themselves, “Morton don’t get me wrong, I do think that you are right. But how are we going to do any of this? Where would we even start? We can’t just change everything that makes us Valemen just like that.”

“What exactly makes us Valemen, Lord Lyonel?” Morton answered. “Is it our Andal upbringing which always makes us look down on the Northerners because they were the only ones who we couldn’t defeat? Is it our Faith that also makes us look down on people who don’t follow the Seven? Is it our sense of chivalry that made us follow rules to the detriment of other more important ones? We followed our Liege, no questions asked because that was what we’ve always been taught to do. My brother, on the other hand, was extremely conflicted about the subject. He was one of the few who wasn’t mentored by a Valeman and I find myself thinking about how that made him more of a knight that I am.”

“How so?”

“Do you ever wonder about the Kingslayer? Now that we know about the future king, I have wondered why Jaehaerys would let him serve him after what he did to his grandfather.”

“He raised him, moreover he is not going to be Kingsguard since he is married now, so I suppose he feels safe with him.”

“For sure, it could be an explanation, but as you said, he raised him. He’d been taught things in the North, but most of what he knows about chivalry comes from squiring for someone who we think of as the worst example of being a knight because he broke his vows and killed his king. Now, this lad did things that put us all to shame. Why?”

“How should I know? Maybe the Kingslayer taught him everything not to do to be a real knight?”

“Or maybe there are things we don’t know about Ser Jaime and why he did what he did. We were quick to judge him because of one vow he hadn’t respected, but Aerys was evil. What if he’d been put in a situation where he had no choice but to kill him?”

“You’re reaching, Morton.” Lyonel scoffed.

“Maybe, but anyway, Ser Jaime Lannister took him under his wings and made him one of the most formidable knights of his generation. What do we have in comparison to the White Wolf, The Hidden Dragon, The Wolf of the West, in the Vale? Harrold ‘Freysbane’ Hardyng.”

Lyonel tried to bite back a laugh but the look on Morton’s face and the sniggers around him made it almost impossible to do so. Harrold was a prime example of how mundane the principle of knighthood had become in the Vale. Everyone knew that the squire melee paid by Lord Arryn was a political move to counter the Lannisters’ influence and to knight Harrold who was complaining that a bastard got something he was more deserving of.

Therein lies the biggest problem of the Vale.

“I’m starting to see your point, my friend. But Harry is going to be the next Lord Paramount of the Vale.” Lyonel stated.

“Is he? There’s no love lost between King Jaehaerys and Harry. So I highly doubt that as the heir of House Arryn he will find more favor with the future king. Especially after Lord Arryn tried to kill the King's own uncle after surrendering.”

“Who would get the title then? Grafton? Redfort? One of those who didn’t fight?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. We won’t have a say in this anyway. That’s not the most important for us. We will have to make do with what we’ll get.”

“So, how will we change?”

“By starting over. By reviewing our teachings about chivalry. By remaking the rules, maybe? We definitely know what is right and what isn’t. We need to redefine our sense of honor, what it means to us and what we can do when faced with impossible choices. And since we don’t know how long we will be prisoners for, we might as well try and start here.”

Lyonel nodded, thinking deeply about the words Morton said and their meaning. There was a time when being a Knight of the Vale was a source of pride to him. He was the eldest of the family and the first to be knighted, a few years before the Rebellion. Then he had been ordered to fight his own brother and everything changed for him at this point. Lyn had been knighted by Lord Grafton and felt a sense of responsibility towards the latter. Lyonel couldn’t understand his brother’s motive and felt betrayed by him. Their relationship had soured when Lyn had been pardoned because their father groveled in front of Jon Arryn so his brother could live. Rather than being subdued and apologetic for what had happened, Lyn grew cocky and arrogant and acted like he was the heir before their father’s death. Lyonel pushed himself to be a Lord, learning everything he could to rule the land and making sure he could make his father proud. It was obvious that Lyn was Lord Corbray’s favorite and even more so when he got Lady Forlorn. 

Lyonel’s resentment grew as he was named Lord and Lyn got the sword, the symbol of knighthood of their family. How fair was it to him? Why did Lyn get to have the sword when he was the one who followed their father into battle first, who helped him when he was wounded? Because he had slain an already dying Prince? Where was the honor in that?

Lyonel was still a Knight of the Vale at heart, but now he realized that other than another title to flatter his ego, it meant nothing for him until this moment. He had clung on this title only to prove himself that he was better than his brother, and his arrogance blinded him to anything other than his tentatives of erasing Lyn’s feats from their legacy.

Lyn was gone now, slain in a battle that shouldn’t have happened. Their eternal competition was over and Lyonel realized that their relationship had deteriorated so much that he couldn’t even mourn his brother. The only thing he’d cared about was the stupid sword he’d thought was his birthright. He walked away from their group, feeling the need to be alone, and cried. For the man he had become, for the man he should have been, for the brother he had lost and for the one that was still there, forgotten because of the two eldest’s constant bickering.

Maybe he would find his redemption through Lucas who was now his heir. If he could salvage their brotherly bond and teach him what he knew about the lands, being a Lord and a good Knight of the Vale…

_I have to write to him._

Lyonel was resolved to ask the next soldier he would meet if I could send a message to his brother. The first one scoffed at him, saying that there were a lot of people wishing to send a message to their family and he would get no preferential treatment. 

He was getting desperate as days went by. So desperate that he started to pray to the Seven for guidance. He was a follower and a man of faith, but he hadn’t prayed for a long time. 

He could hear the northern soldiers come and sing not too far from him.

_‘They came in number, those prideful Knights_

_From the Vale, they came, their heads held high_

_Blessed by the Seven and armor shining bright_

_They weren't ready for the Dragon's might._

_They should have prayed better, those prideful Knights_

_Who called us savages and spit on our rites_

_They had forgotten they never defeated the North_

_And didn't manage to cross our Moats_

_Now they are defeated, those prideful Knights_

_And we Northern men have held our head high_

_Blessed by the Old Gods before our fight_

_We're but one part of the Dragon's might’_

“Will you all just shut up?” Albar screamed, to their jailers’ delight.

Ser Albar Royce was a piece of work, as prideful as his father and ready to pick a fight with anyone who disrespected him. The northern soldiers took pleasure in getting a rise out of him, by singing songs about the Vale’s defeat or their most famous one so far ‘The Prideful Knights’.

Lyonel tried to shut him out and to focus on his prayer, but Albar was screaming so loudly that he couldn’t concentrate. 

He looked up and watched Royce’s heir arguing with a familiar face he still had trouble acknowledging. He’d seen this lad before, for sure, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember when. It wasn’t until he saw the red flayed man that his memory came to him.

“Did you come to gloat again, traitor?”

“I’ve never gloated once, Ser.”

“Yet you dared raise your hand on me and visit me as if you did nothing?”

“I did what I had to do to save your life, Albar. Would you have preferred to die over there?”

“You think I will thank you for not killing me? Do you really think you did me a favor? What will I tell my father when I see him?”

“That you owe your life to a young Northernman who could have killed you instead of having you bitch at him?” Lyonel intervened.

“Mind your own business, Corbray. I owe nothing to this traitor. Nothing, you hear me?”

Lyonel sighed loudly while watching his countryman leaving in a huff.

“Are you well, my Lord?”

“Yes… Yes, thank you, Ser…”

“It’s Lord Bolton, now, my Lord.” Domeric corrected him, a tinge of pride in his voice while his eyes conveyed sadness.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry for your loss, Lord Bolton.”

“As I am for yours, my Lord. Ser Lyn was a good warrior.”

Lyonel nodded, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Are you sure all is well, my Lord? I know that it must be difficult to stay in such rudimentary conditions…”

“The perks of being on the losing side, I guess.” Lyonel tried to joke.

“I’m sorry about that. I’m not sorry about winning, but... I wish we didn’t have to fight.” 

“I know. I heard your little argument with Ser Albar. He was too harsh on you. Nobody can blame you for fighting for when you come from.”

“As nobody would blame you for standing with your liege, my Lord. But I did hope that the dragon would deter you from fighting.”

“Oh, it did.” 

“Well, I am glad you’re well. As well as you can be in this situation. I was just going to see if Albar needed something, but he still doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I bet he’s still hurt over the fact that you knocked him down at the first chance you got.”

“I made a promise not to see him harmed and I would have done anything to fulfill my promise.”

“It’s an honorable deed you’ve done. I’m certain his Father would be grateful that you tried to protect him?”

“I hope so.” He blushed a little and Lyonel knew for certain that it was not to Lord Nestor that he had made this promise. “I know we don’t know each other well but, would you do me a favor, my Lord?”

“You want me to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get in trouble?”

“Aye, I do, especially since I don’t know when I’ll come back.”

”You’re leaving?”

“To King’s Landing. Our King needs us to march. When King’s Landing is secure and Jaehaerys crowned, I hope you’ll be able to go home. You’ll have to bend the knee, of course, but...”

“He won’t send us to the Wall? It would be the right thing to do.”

“Knowing Jaehaerys, he would probably have you swear fealty and then prove your worthiness to him.”

“You know him well? Jaehaerys?”

“I met him in tourneys and also in the North. I won’t say we are friends but there's mutual trust between us, which is probably the first time that can be said about a Bolton and a Stark.” he chuckled.

“The same could be said about Brackens and Blackwoods.” Lyonel japed back.

“And yet, they got together and fought for him. There’s actually a song about that. ‘The fish with no pants’.”

“You jest!”

“I would not dare, my Lord. Jaehaerys tends to reunite people in unexpected ways.”

“I guess you’re right… Do you… Have you heard anything from the Vale?”

Domeric lowered his head and seemed to fight with what to say to him.

“There’s… Unrest… To say the least. Between those loyal to Lord Arryn and those… Who knows the truth of his true character.”

“You mean that we’re close to a civil war?”

“I think it won’t come to that. Once they’ll understand that the war is truly lost to them, they will get in line. But things definitely need to change.”

“What do you think will happen to us?” 

“Do you intend to bend the knee, my Lord?”

“What choice do I have? With the dragons and everything…”

“You can still ask to go to the Wall if you don’t want to bend the knee. Apart from following your liege, you’d committed no crime so he won’t call for your head.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“He’s from the North, my Lord. He follows the Old Gods and the northern precepts. I believe we’ve shown you some of our Northern hospitality so far, by caring for you and your men even if we didn’t have to. We are at war, we could have killed you all, but that is not our way.”

Lyonel nodded once more as hope bloomed into his heart. 

“Thank you, my Lord, I really needed to hear this. I don’t know if I will bend the knee. I have to see for myself if the king is as you’re depicting him. I don’t think I will be able to look at myself if I bow to another monster.”

“I understand. I hope you will take the right decision for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to ready my men for the journey.”

“You’ve asked me a favor, Lord Bolton, and I would do the same!” Lyonel yelled at Domeric’s retreating form, making him stop. “I will look after Albar, as you’ve asked, but my brother, Lucas, I… I don’t know if he knows I’m alive. I would like to make sure he is well. I don’t know how long I will stay here, nor if I will see him again so...”

“You wish to send him a message?”

“Please. I know I’m not the only one and I don’t deserve more than anyone else to send word to my family, but…”

“I will talk to Lord Stark to see if you can write to your brother. If not, I… I’ll send word for you.”

“I thank you, my Lord.” Lyonel breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the young lord, who smiled back at him. 

Slowly but surely, the camp around theirs emptied itself while the soldiers prepared to leave for King’s Landing. Lyonel had heard nothing from Domeric but stayed confident that he would stay true to his word, so the Lord of Heart’s Home set his mind to fulfill his promise. 

Ser Albar’s hostile behaviour changed as days passed. Lyonel thought that the Royce knight was lashing out because he was scared about his fate, and the numerous talks with him had calmed him down. There was a change in their camp also, as the most rebellious knights found themselves reflecting over the things they had learned so far. The tension between them and the opposite forces appeased while they learned to make themselves useful around the camp. Soon enough they were granted more freedom and enjoyed the benefits of their shared efforts.

One day they would get better food, another day they would get some books to read, courtesy of their new friends of the West. 

The day before the bulk of the armies were set to leave for Kings Landing, Lord Stark announced to the Vale Men that ink and paper would be provided to them and that the letters would be delivered to the Bloody Gate. Any and all responses would then be delivered to the camp by the men of the Gate who would be given guest rights and allowed to leave with more letters. 

Of course, this would only happen under two very explicit conditions. The first was that the prisoners must give their word of honor that they would not try to escape at any time. The second being that when King Jaehaerys took his throne, every Knight and Lord of the Vale would travel peacefully with the rest of his forces to the city, bend the knee to him (if they chose to do so) and accept whatever judgement he deemed necessary. The men at arms and those who were no longer too wounded for travel on the other hand would be escorted to the Bloody Gate and allowed to return home. Any punishment that their Lords would receive would not be brought down on those who had done nothing but simply followed their lead.

After the announcement had been made, the men were very excited about the opportunity to let their loved ones know that they were safe. For the first time in many days, the men of the Vale felt a real sense of hope.

Morton Waynwood was a real force of change for the Lords around him. Lyonel thought that he would definitely follow someone like him rather than Harrold Hardyng. He made sure to put a word about him in his letter to Lucas.

Just then a Northern soldier came up to him and said, “Lord Stark wants a word with you My Lord.”

Lyonel followed the soldier with apprehension. What would the Warden of the North want from him? Was it because of Domeric that he’d been summoned?

“My Lord Stark,” he greeted as he arrived in his tent. “You sent for me?”

“Aye, my Lord, have a seat. Do you want some ale?”

“I’d prefer water, if it pleases you.” Lyonel grimaced.

“Not too fond of Northern ale, are you?” Ned chuckled.

“A bit too bitter to my taste,” he admitted while he received the water. “I don’t want to sound rude but… Why am I here?”

“Oh, yes. I had a talk with Lord Bolton. He was the one who suggested that you and the other Vale men be allowed to send word to your families.”

“He has a good heart, that one.”

“He said it was on your request and I wanted to apologize to you. I should have thought about how you needed to reassure your loved ones.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my Lord. We’re at war and you’ve treated us far better than could have been expected.”

“Are you sure? Lord Bolton also told me that some of my men have been… Less than courteous to some of yours.”

“Nothing harmful, my Lord. The words were harsh and our pride took a hit, but all things considered, it was well deserved.”

“Nevertheless, I would like you to tell us if something untoward happens. We don’t want to add more tension in the camp.”

“I will, my Lord.”

His gaze then fell on Lady Forlorn and he felt a knot in his throat. Ned Stark followed his gaze and sighed loudly.

“I had been meaning to talk to you about that, too. I’m sorry for your loss and I wanted to give it back to you as soon as the war is over. However, I cannot do it now since you are a prisoner and I am in need to march to join my King. On my honor, I swear I will personally give it back to you, my Lord. Should anything happen to you or me in the meantime, I give you my word that Lady Forlorn will be sent to Heart’s Home. ”

Lyonel nodded numbly, his words lost to him at that moment. He should feel something, anything, at least some kind of relief for Lord Stark’s promise, but all he could think of was Lyn. He would give Lady Forlorn up if it could bring his brother back, but that wasn’t possible. Lyn was gone and he would never know how much regret his brother felt about the distance that had grown between them. Knowing this made Lyonel feel even more of the weight of his brother’s death. But Ned Stark had lost his father, his brother and his sister in such a short amount of time, more family than Lyonel could ever comprehend, so how did he manage such towering grief?

“My Lord? Does it get any easier, losing a brother I mean?”

It was then that the mask of Lord Paramount seemed to slip a bit allowing a view of a man who had lost so much to be seen. Stark leaned forward and looked Lyonel in the eye and said, “I’ll be honest with you, the pain will always be there. There will always be a feeling of regret for the mistakes you made, the missed opportunities and the words that were left unsaid. But the pain does dull over time. What helped me initially was having my children around to always put a smile on my face. But it wasn’t until my nephew and Lord Jaime had told me the truth of things about Robert and Jon that I had started to truly heal from the heartache. Knowing the truth gave me the resolve to better myself and the North as a whole. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a sense of sadness I feel every day but it’s a feeling that I can live with because I know that Lyanna, Brandon and my father would want me to be able to live my life and be happy.”

Lyonel thanked the Lord and got back to the camp, his thoughts jumbled as were his emotions. He was glad to see that no one bothered him until it was time for him to write his letter to Lucas. He didn’t remember what he wrote. He just poured all his feelings and his regrets on paper, didn’t look back and sealed the letter as it was.

He waited anxiously for his brother’s answer. Would he be glad to know he was alive? Would he blame him for Lyn’s death? For losing Lady Forlorn? Would he step down as a Lord when he’d come back? Would they be able to restore their brotherhood as he hoped?

For days he’d prayed at the makeshift shrine they’d manage to create. Someone had carved The Seven figures of the Gods and the Manderlys had provided them with a table and a tent so they could pray in peace. This act of compassion towards them had given the men of the Vale a chance to see the Northerners in a new light. After all, if they truly were savage heathens then they would have completely decimated their forces during the battle. They also wouldn't have felt the need to provide them with food and drink, but they did. And with every act of civility towards, the Knights became more and more hopeful for their future.

About a fortnight later, hope began to soar a bit higher for the men when some soldiers from the Vale arrived just before they began their midday meal under a flag of truce. They carried with them the highly anticipated letters from home. The Joy on the faces of every man was so infectious that even some of the Northern guards were smiling and feeling happy for their prisoners. Morton got three letters, from his mother, his brother Donnel and his son Roland. Albar, one from his sister Myranda and one from his mother, and after an excruciating moment of waiting, Lyonel finally got his. His hands were shaking and his heartbeat drummed in his ears as anxiety surged once again. After all, Lucas and he didn’t leave on the best of terms, so his brother could still resent him for not letting him come with them. Maybe Lucas had thought that he could have saved Lyn, or worse, that Lyonel had deliberately let Lyn die to get Lady Forlorn. He cursed himself for not reading what he had written to his brother before sending it and only hoped he didn’t mess up or call him names in it.

He finally took a deep breath and broke the seal of the letter.  
  


_Dear Lyonel,_

_Brother, you have no idea how happy I was to receive your letter. When word came from the Bloody Gate about the battle I had feared the worst. Rumors had been spreading around the Vale about the war and I had initially dismissed them believing that our Knights, Stannis’ forces, and the King's forces would be more than enough to defeat our enemies. But then I received word from a friend of mine who is a knight in service to Griffin's Roost about Stannis’ defeat and capture at the hands of the Dornish._

_The Vale was in chaos, Brother. Lords were turning against Lords, trying to put the blame of the loss on Lord Yohn deserting, or Lord Redfort and Grafton not rising. I feared we would have to fight each other, but most of all I feared I would never see you again. Feared I was going to lose my brothers before they realized how stubborn they both were. I don’t blame you for Lyn’s death, nor for not having this stupid sword that divided our family long enough. I’m just glad you’re still in this world._

_Things are calmer for now. Lord Nestor has closed himself in the Gates of the Moon and Harry Freysbane makes no move either. I think we have to thank the Waynwoods for that. I heard Ser Donnel and Lady Anya managed to defuse the situation with the Redforts, the Royces of Runestone and the Graftons until we heard about the real dragons and our Liege Lord’s duplicity._

_I hope you will be home soon, be the Lord we need you to be and that we can make up for the lost time. I am definitely not ready to take your place. I thought you were exaggerating when you talked about all the responsibilities but now I know and I need you to learn how to be a good heir should you need me to be._

_Brother, there is some bad news I have to share with you. When word got back of the Vale’s defeat, the man whose daughter you wanted to marry came to Heart's Home demanding for the contract to be maintained, with me instead of you, and with less money given to us because of the loss he was about to suffer for allying with the Vale. I told him that we didn’t know if you or Lyn were dead and that it was dishonorable not to wait for at least confirmation. I did not want to be forced to marry, assuredly, but I felt it was an insult to you to press those matters when we had no news of you. This leech wanted to take advantage of you for reasons I know not. I then reneged the contract and said that if you were alive, you wouldn’t want to be associated with someone as despicable as him. I am sorry I have failed you, Lyonel, but I really thought it was the right thing to do at the time._

_I promise you I will find you a bride when you come home, on my honor as a Knight. A bride worthy of you and of giving you the heir you deserve. I just hope you won’t be too mad at me and I pray to the Seven that you’ll come back soon._

_I miss you,_

_Ser Lucas Corbray_

  
To say that Lyonel was elated to read that his brother was well and wished to see him soon was a euphemism. He was concerned about what had happened to the Vale, annoyed at what the merchant tried to do to his brother and proud at how Lucas reacted to the ultimatum that despicable man gave him. In a way, it showed how loyal he is to his family and how honorable he is as well, and for that Lyonel couldn't help but feel proud of him.

He looked around and only saw smiling faces on the camp. Even the grumpy Albar seemed happy to hear from his family. Morton was silently tearing up and some Lords patted the Waynwood’s shoulder in passing. 

“You must be proud of your family Morton,” Lyonel said after he had walked over and sat down next to his friend.

“Proud? This little sod almost got himself killed! He put Mother in an impossible position!” Morton grumbled through sniffles.

“Yet you’re not mad at him, because you would have done the same if you were in his place.”

“Aye, I would have. But… He… I’m… I’m just glad they’re safe.”

“That is all that matters, my friend. That and making sure that we come back to them.”

“So what do you think will happen to the Vale now?” Lyonel asked after a brief moment of happy silence.

“I’m certain everything will settle quickly, with the help of the good people. A lot of men in this camp will help to talk to their families if they ever think to turn against another Valeman. We need to show a united front and to repair the mistakes we made. So we will do just that when we come about. But before that, we have a Dragon to kneel to.”

“Oh, Gods! I hate Domeric Bolton!” Albar yelled suddenly, making the two friends roll their eyes.

“He should have left this brainless waste of air be eaten by the dragon!” Morton mumbled.

“I don’t think he would be to his liking!” Lyonel japed. 

“We wouldn’t have won the war even if it had gotten indigestion because of Albar Royce. Even in death, he would have been unhelpful.”

“Let us see why he is raging so much.”

“I’ll get some ale.”

“Great. Getting drunk while listening to incessant whining. That’s how I wanted to spend the day.” Lyonel ironized, to Morton’s amusement.

It turned out that Albar was angry because the letter he’d received from his sister was full of reproaches. As Lyonel had guessed before, Myranda had been the one to ask Lord Domeric to take care of her brother. Apparently, they had been corresponding with each other for a long time and she was more than disappointed in Albar’s reaction to being saved by Domeric. She told him in not-so-kind words that he was an idiot and that she would kill him herself if Domeric didn’t want to marry her because of his attitude.

Lyonel told himself that he would pray for Lord Domeric’s sake if he really wanted to join the Royces’ family.

When asked about his father, Albar said that according to his mother Nestor had been different and sullen since he found out about Lord Jon’s unknightly behavior. He keeps to himself in his solar and barely speaks to anyone unless it’s his wife and daughter. Since Nestor has been a very staunch Arryn supporter for so many years it came as no surprise to Lyonel that in the face of such a betrayal he would be feeling very down just like everyone else in the Vale. But what did confuse him was that the man seemed to be taking it much harder compared to other Arryn supporters like Vardis. When asked about it later that evening after making sure that Albar wasn’t around to hear, Morton gave a surprising answer.

“I’m honestly not surprised that he’s like this. Nestor probably is coming up with some very pride destroying theories about his position of High Steward of the Vale.”

“You think that there was more to his appointment than just a reward for loyalty and an acknowledgement of worth as a Lord?” Lyonel asked sensing where this was going.

“Considering everything we have learned about Lord Jon so far it would not surprise me if he gave Nestor his position because he saw a very useful pawn who would do everything he asked without question. Men like our dear Liege Lord would never do anything that didn’t benefit them directly. And having someone that you perceive to be a blind fool be your personal boot kisser while you rule the realm would have greatly benefited the Falcon.”

“Wow. When you put it that way I actually feel sorry for the man.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for him. Nestor has always been a very arrogant and prideful man so I’m sure that he’s feeling bad because of other things as well. For example, because of his close association with Lord Jon, Nestor stands to lose quite a bit of standing in the Vale now that everyone knows about our former Lord’s duplicity. Any chance he had of rising even higher, like a position on the Small Council or a keep for his own is gone now.”

“But if Lord Yohn is made Lord Paramount wouldn’t that benefit Nestor in some way?”

“Not really. Lord Yohn and Nestor have never truly gotten along over the years. Add in the fact that some of the decisions he has made over the years as Lord Jon’s steward would more than likely come into question. Well…” Morton explained shrugging his shoulders leaving the obvious outcome unsaid.

“You, unfortunately, make a very good point. Sounds like Myranda is the only one in her family that will benefit from this war.”

“Aye.”

It took another fortnight for them to receive news from King’s Landing. King Jaehaerys had successfully taken the city and the war was officially over. They celebrated that night with their old enemies who had become comrades during their days of captivity. Even Vardis, who was still angry about Lord Arryn, was relieved. The Western Lords shared with them some Arbor gold and Lyonel savoured it like never before.

The remaining soldiers would be escorted to the Vale while the Lords and the most important Knights would travel to King’s Landing to swear fealty to the new king. Lyonel felt a little tug at his heart when he realized that Morton wouldn’t come with them. Lady Anya, Lord Yohn and Lord Nestor were set to travel with Harrold Hardyng to also swear fealty so Morton and Albar had to take their parents’ place at the Eyrie in their absence.

They said their goodbyes around the Crossroads Inn with Morton promising Lyonel to check on his brother and the Lord of Heart’s Home giving his word to protect Lady Anya when she would arrive. As we were ready to ride apart, He heard Morton hum the start of their new hymn, the One who still annoyed Albar, which had been changed through the sennights of cohabitation with the Northmen, and soon all the soldiers, Going to King’s Landing or the Bloody Gates, sang it aloud as they rode to their future.  
  


_They came in number, those prideful Knights_

_From the Vale, they came, their heads held high_

_Blessed by the Seven and armor shining bright_

_They weren't ready for the Dragon's might._

_They followed a fool, those prideful Knights_

_They didn't know better and listened to shite_

_He was so certain he could defeat the North_

_That he threw them to the Wolves with no remorse_

_They were defeated, those prideful Knights_

_And the Northern men have held their head high_

_Blessed by the Old Gods before their fight_

_They were but one part of the Dragon's might_

_They'll bend the knee, those prideful knights_

_After they've been shown the Dragon's flight_

_Then this group of soldiers showed them the light_

_And humbled them right after their fight_   
  


_To the Vale, they go, those now humbled knights_

_To rebuild their country and set all things right_

_They dream of a future under a new light_

_For now, they are one with the Dragon's might_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was lot of fun to write and it gave us a chance to really dive into what would have happened with the Vale Knights after watching Jon A try to kill Ned.
> 
> So we hope that you enjoyed this weeks chapter and that you will hit the kudos button and leave a comment to tell us what you think. 
> 
> Credit for the songs in this chapter goes to Leilani972 (Who knew that she had a hidden talent?).
> 
> Stay tuned for next Saturday, because we are going to the Stormlands next.
> 
> The one who can guess which POV we will use will get a direwolf!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you all enjoyed the first chapter of many in this new adventure that Leilani972 and I, Arrow4131 were able to create together.  
> We will post a new chapter every Saturday and we already have a lot planned for future chapters. But please let us know in the comments and on discord if there is something you would like to see. Have a wonderful weekend.
> 
> https://discord.gg/7mpyZ5Vse9


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